


One Little White Lie

by this_is_kelly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Modern AU, Modern Era AU, Pretend Boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_kelly/pseuds/this_is_kelly
Summary: Merlin can't keep dodging Freya's advances forever, so he invents a little white lie to keep her interest at bay: That he has a boyfriend and his name is Arthur.A fake-relationship troupe.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 116
Kudos: 620





	One Little White Lie

**One Little White Lie**

***

Merlin sits on the bleachers next to the pitch. He has on two scarves, one is his and one is Arthur’s, and his hands are shoved deep into his coat pockets – he forgot his gloves. Gwen is cheering; she _really_ gets into the matches. Merlin couldn’t care less, but he comes because his best mates play on this rugby team. The rugby thing started at university. First Arthur signed up for the intermural team since he played when he went to secondary school in England. Once word got out that he was playing, Lance and Leon signed up as well. Merlin was the only one who refused on the basis that he has absolutely no athletic skill and his thighs don’t look good in rugby shorts.

“Look at Lance in that uniform,” Gwen says with a groan. “His knees really do it for me.”

“So much more information than I needed to know. It’s so fucking cold.”

Gwen elbows him playfully. “It’s almost over, then we can go to the bar.” She cups her hands around her mouth and cheers and then claps loudly. 

Merlin shivers. “I don’t know why I always let you talk me into coming.”

“To watch our friends! You didn’t ever watch rugby when you lived in England?”

“No.”

“What a shame,” Gwen sighs. “Look at them on the field. So sweaty, I love it.”

Merlin looks at his watch and then looks down the bleachers at the other spectators. “Pitch,” he says.

“Huh?”

“It’s rugby, yeah? We call it a pitch back in England, not a field. Oh shit.” Merlin quickly turns back towards Gwen. “We are getting out of here. Right now. Text Lance that we’ll meet him at the pub.”

Gwen quickly grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. “Okay, but what’s wrong?” She stands and follows Merlin down the sideline. 

“MERLIN!” a voice from behind them yells.

Merlin cringes. “You think I can pretend I didn’t hear that?”

“MERLIN!”

“Maybe the first yell, not the second.” Gwen stops and turns back around. Merlin takes a deep breath and does the same.

A woman a bit younger than them, probably early twenties, jogs over. She looks overly put-together for a Saturday match, with skinny jeans and knee-high boots and a scarf that matches her earrings. Merlin can tell by the way Gwen assesses her that she’s not impressed.

“Hello! You’re the last person I expected at a sports game!”

“Ah, well.” Merlin shrugs. Gwen elbows him again, this time harder. “Oh, sorry, this is my mate Gwen. Gwen, this is Freya. We work together. She’s another executive assistant at the law firm.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gwen says. She holds out her hand for Freya to shake. She tucks her curly hair behind her ears, almost self-consciously. Merlin wants to tell her to stand up straight, that she’s ten times prettier than Freya, but he also wants to just get the fuck out of here.

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin sees the match wrapping up. The two teams are shaking hands and Arthur and Lance have already grabbed their water bottles and bags. Merlin tugs on Gwen’s sleeve as Arthur crosses the pitch towards them.

“Time to go,” Merlin says. “It was nice seeing you, Freya. We can chat on Monday.”

“What’s got you in a such a hurry?” Freya asks.

“He wants to get a good booth at the bar across the street. We go there after every game,” Gwen says. “Ouch, you just stepped on my foot.”

“Sorry,” Merlin grumbles.

“Arthur!” Gwen says enthusiastically. “Great game!”

“Thanks,” Arthur says as he approaches. He tugs on the end of one of Merlin’s scarves. “Can I have mine back now?”

Merlin laughs uneasily. “Sure. Uh, good match.”

“Who won?” Arthur asks. He drops his bag down by his feet and bends over to rummage through it for his sweatshirt.

“Don’t do that,” Merlin says. “You know I don’t pay attention.”

Arthur smirks. He stands and looks behind him towards the other players. “Lance better get a move on. I think he’s trying to sell Gwaine’s house for him.”

“What’s got you so wound up?” Merlin asks.

“Arthur has ‘big news’ to share with us, apparently,” Gwen supplies. “Lance told me on the way over here. Some announcement.”

Arthur grins and then holds out his hand to Merlin. With a sigh as loud as he can muster, Merlin unwinds it from his neck. “I’m a mess,” Arthur says, “I need to shower before getting a drink. Lance, too, if he ever gets his arse over here. I think your key’s somewhere in here.” He pulls the bag back up and slings it over his shoulder. He unzips the side pocket. 

“Okay, well, then, let’s get going—”

“Oh, sorry,” Arthur says as though he’s just now seeing Freya. “Hello, I’m Arthur.”

“Oh my god!” Freya practically shrieks. “I thought you looked familiar! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Merlin tries to hide his wince.

“I’m Freya.”

“Nice to meet you, too, I think. You work with Merlin?”

“Same floor, yeah. You look exactly like your pictures, but I’ve never seen you in your rugby uniform. My brother plays.” She points towards the field. “He was on the other team.” She smiles back at Arthur. “You’re hotter in real life.”

Arthur grins slyly. “Oh yeah?”

Freya giggles and Merlin wants to die.

“Now that everyone knows everyone else’s name, let’s get going. Arthur, why don’t you go shower, Gwen let’s go get a table. And Freya – I’ll see you on Monday.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Freya says to Arthur. “I’ve been wanting to finally see Merlin’s boyfriend in the flesh.”

Merlin watches Arthur’s reaction in slow motion. At first he pauses, then turns completely back around. He cocks his head to the side as though he is unsure of the words he just heard. Then he looks Freya up and down and then looks back at Merlin with his eyebrows raised. Merlin rubs a hand across his chin and takes in a deep breath. He tries to avoid Arthur’s eyes.

“I didn’t know Merlin was out at work,” Arthur says dryly. 

Merlin’s heart beats loudly between his ears. 

“Oh he wasn’t,” says Freya very seriously. “I thought he was straight. I asked him out a few times, but he kept saying no. I finally weaseled it out of him.”

“Weaseled it out of him,” Arthur repeats.

“Yeah, that he couldn’t go out with me because he had a boyfriend.”

Arthur slings an arm over Merlin’s shoulder. “Yeah, most people do think he’s straight,” he confirms. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Can we please go? I’m freezing.”

“Freya,” Arthur says with a wicked smile on his face. Merlin knows that smile. That smile never ends well for him. “Why don’t you and your brother join us at the pub across the street? I’ll just take a quick shower, and we’ll meet you there.”

“That sounds great,” Freya says. “I’ll see if he wants to join.”

“Let’s go, Merlin,” Arthur says, tugging Merlin away. Merlin gives Gwen and Freya a tentative wave goodbye.

***

Arthur doesn’t say anything on the short walk to Merlin’s flat, which is only two blocks from the pitch. He uses the spare key Merlin gave him ages ago to unlock the door. He takes his bag into the bathroom and takes an agonizingly slow shower while Merlin waits on the sofa, counting the minutes. Arthur lives in a much nicer flat a few streets away, but Merlin’s is closer to the rugby pitch, so often after matches, Arthur runs in to shower before meeting everyone at the pub. Normally Merlin doesn’t go back to the flat with him and gets a head start on shots and beer with Gwen at their usual booth.

While Merlin waits, he texts Gwen, asking her to just go along with it until he can explain later. She doesn’t respond right away.

> **Gwen:** _She’s asking me a lot of questions about how you two met._
> 
> **Merlin:** _Oh god._
> 
> **Gwen:** _I told her we all met in college._
> 
> **Merlin:** _I mean that’s the truth…_
> 
> **Gwen:** _WTF, Merlin?_

“All right, then, _boyfriend_ ,” Arthur says. He’s changed into regular clothes, but his hair is still wet, and his feet bare. Merlin quickly puts his phone down without responding to Gwen.

“Okay, look,” Merlin begins. “I went out with Freya once and I wasn’t into her, but she kept asking me out and I didn’t know how to let her down.”

“So you told her you were gay?”

“Yes, but then she wanted me to be her gay best friend, so I told her I couldn’t go out with her that often because I had a boyfriend I had to spend time with.”

“Uh huh. You couldn’t have invented a boyfriend?”

“I can’t keep up with those kind of lies. I have loads of pictures of us already, so, you know, I just blurred the details a bit.”

“A bit.”

“Yeah.”

Arthur takes a deep breath. “Telling someone you work with that I’m your boyfriend is more than blurring the lines ‘a bit.’”

“Look, when we all went to the cabin for the weekend? We shared a room, yeah? I just made her think we shared a bed as well. It’s been frighteningly easy to lie to her about it…”

Arthur runs his hands over his face.

“I don’t know why you’re so cross. You don’t work with us. Just help me save face today over drinks and I promise you’ll never have to see her again.”

“Actually, Merlin—”

“ _Please_? She’s nice, but she never shuts up. You saw what she looks like. She’s too pretty for me.”

“Pardon me? She’s too pretty? What does that make me?”

Merlin waves a dismissive hand. “You know what I mean. I don’t like superficial women. I think she’s a lot younger than me, too.”

“It’s a wonder you’re still single.”

Merlin gets up and puts his hands on Arthur’s shoulders. “I’ll do whatever you want. Anything.”

“Hmmm.”

“Just this one afternoon.”

“One afternoon and then you tell her we broke up.”

“Okay, well, that’s not going to happen.”

“Let’s just see how this afternoon plays out and then we’ll revisit the break up, shall we?”

“I don’t like the sound of that. Don’t sabotage it. I’ve repeatedly told her how amazing you are. She thinks we’re the perfect couple.”

Arthur grimaces. “Fine. We’ll think of something, but we aren’t staying together forever. Come on, let’s go.”

***

At the pub, Freya wants to know everything about Arthur and Merlin. Luckily they’ve been mates long enough they don’t really have to lie too much. They met in university. Freshman year Arthur and Merlin were in the same economics class and Arthur had this horrible roommate at the dormitories, but it was required that all freshman live on campus. Sophomore year, Arthur found a flat with two of his mates, Leon and Lance while Merlin had to continue slumming it in the dorms. The flat was the perfect party spot so Merlin found himself on Arthur’s sofa more nights than not. They got even closer senior year when Merlin’s best friend, Gwen, began dating Lance. Their foursome friendship grew organically after that.

“Okay, but when did you first get together?” Freya asks. “Merlin always just said after college sometime.”

“Yes,” Gwen echoes, “I’ve always wanted to hear this story. It was like one day you two were friends and the next thing you were boyfriends completely out of the blue.”

“Heh,” Merlin says. He shifts in the booth next to Arthur. He tries to avoid everyone’s gaze.

Freya pulls out her mobile from her purse. “Oh, it’s my dad. I’ve got to take this. Be right back.” She gets up and walks off as she answers, “Hello, Daddy.”

Lance, who had been sitting at the end of the table in a chair, moves into the booth next to Gwen. Luckily Freya’s brother came over to the pub with his own teammates so he was somewhere else across the restaurant.

“Okay, dude,” Lance says, “what the fuck?”

“I’m not very good at rejecting people,” Merlin starts. “I don’t want to hurt their feelings. Freya and I went out once and it would never have worked. I thought she’d feel the same, but she wanted to go out again. I dodged her for a while, but when she asked me why I didn’t want to date her, I didn’t know what to say.”

“So you told her, what? That you had a boyfriend?” Gwen asks.

“Yes,” Merlin replies. 

“Why Arthur?” Lance asks.

“I don’t know,” moans Merlin. “He was the first person who popped into my head and when she asked me for a picture, it wasn’t hard to find one on my phone. So, you know, for the last year or so—”

“A _year_?” Arthur asks. “That’s how long this lie’s been going on?”

“Well, yeah.” Merlin shifts again. “Look, I felt bad about lying, I guess, but really, it saved her feelings. I didn’t want to hurt her. This is why I dated that girl in college for so long. I couldn’t bear to break up with her and make her cry.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Arthur says. “Who cares? So it makes it awkward at work for a little bit. Be a grown-up.”

“I didn’t want to get sacked,” Merlin says.

“Why the hell would not dating a coworker get you fired?” Gwen asks.

“Her father is my boss,” Merlin says. “I’m his executive assistant. All the other assistants work with multiple lawyers, but he’s the name partner of the firm. So it’s just me and him. When his _daughter_ asked me out, I said yes. So if she was mad at me … it’s not like I work for a bunch of different attorneys. Sacking me would only affect him.”

Arthur lets out a strangled-sounding laugh. “Her father is your boss? She’s a Middleton?”

“Freya Middleton, yeah.”

“Shit,” Arthur says. “Shit. Fuck.”

“What?” asks Merlin, alarmed. 

Arthur rakes a hand through his hair. “Remember my big announcement?”

“Yeah…” Merlin says slowly.

“Well—”

Freya interrupts Arthur as she comes back to the table. “Daddy is bringing his car around for us. I’m supposed to help him with details for the office Christmas party next month. Walk outside with us?”

Merlin sighs and stands. “Sure.”

“You too, Arthur,” Freya says. She grabs her purse and coat from where it sits behind Lance’s back in the booth.

“Oh, no, I’m—”

“I insist. I haven’t gotten to hear the story of how you two got together.”

Arthur reluctantly stands and whispers into Merlin’s ear, “We have to break up immediately.”

Merlin pushes Arthur’s shoulder and rolls his eyes. Freya stops by the table where her brother sits and grabs him as well. Arthur exchanges _nice game_ with the other team before following Freya outside.

It’s so cold, Merlin is immediately shivering. He left his coat inside. Freya wraps her scarf around her neck and says, “Arthur, you are so delicious, I’m so glad I finally got to meet you. I almost thought you weren’t real.”

“I’m very real.” The humor sounds as though it’s gone from Arthur’s voice.

“You seemed too good to be true,” Freya says, “from the way Merlin describes you. I’d love to get together again. We should double-date one night. And of course you’ll have to come to the Christmas party. We’re allowed to bring dates.”

“We’ll talk about it,” Merlin says. “Arthur’s so busy with work and—”

“Oh, there’s Daddy’s car.” Freya waves to a black town car that pulls over in front of the pub.

Merlin watches as his boss, Frederick Middleton, speaks to the driver and then gets out of the backseat. He’s older, in his seventies, and has white hair and glasses. His face has a youthful glow and most of his wrinkles are around his eyes. He’s always been tough in the courtroom and sometimes tough to work for, but he clearly has a soft spot – and often a blind eye – where Freya is concerned. He opens his arms for his daughter and she gives him a big hug. He immediately turns to Merlin, but then stops short and does a double-take.

“Arthur Pendragon,” he says. “I didn’t think I’d seen you again so soon.”

Arthur holds out a hand and Frederick takes it and shakes it enthusiastically. 

“I didn’t know you knew my Freya.”

“We just met this afternoon, actually.”

“Arthur is Merlin’s boyfriend,” Freya says. 

“Oh that’s grand!” Frederick says. “When you said you knew my assistant, I didn’t think you meant in the biblical sense.”

Merlin closes his eyes and tries not to react. Then his eyes shoot open and he says, “Wait. How do you two know each other?”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“It was going to be a surprise,” Arthur says. He avoids Merlin’s gaze.

“Your boyfriend just accepted a position at the firm. Senior partner. We’re stealing him away from that awful practice he works at now!”

Merlin stops breathing. “What?” he says.

“Will that be a conflict of interest?” Arthur asks.

“We’ll disclose it to HR, but I don’t see why it would. Merlin is my assistant and you’ll have your own.”

“That’s a relief,” Arthur says, but his voice sounds overly strained. “I didn’t mean to keep it a secret, of course. I wouldn’t want to blindside anyone with the news that I have a boyfriend at the firm. But I’m actually quite private so maybe it’s best that we don’t advertise it to everyone.”

“Of course, of course,” Frederick says. “You’re legendary in the courtroom, you know. Anything to have you on our team. We’ll work out the details. Come, Freya, Thomas. Let’s go. I’ll see you in two weeks, Arthur. Merlin, see you Monday.”

***

“So this just got really fucking complicated,” Merlin says. “I need more beer.”

“Wow, so what’re you going to do?” Gwen asks.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were interviewing at my law firm?” Merlin asks.

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret, but I hate where I work. Frederick offered me more money and a promotion based on my track record. My current firm wasn’t ever going to do either. And you like working there. From what I know from other attorneys and you, of course, it’s a great place to work. We finalized everything and I signed the contracts yesterday. That’s what my big announcement today was.”

“We can’t bloody well break up now, can we?”

“I don’t really want my brand new boss to find out I’ve lied to him before I ever started working there,” says Arthur.

“I don’t want to lie to my boss either!” Merlin cries.

“You’ve _been_ lying to him!” Arthur snaps. “You’ve been lying to the whole bloody firm!”

“It was supposed to be a little white lie to save Freya’s feelings!”

“Look, I’ll work there for a month and then we can start planting the seed of distrust or something,” says Arthur. “Maybe you can cheat on me.”

“Wait – why would I be the one who cheats?”

“Because you’re the lair out of the two of us.”

Merlin frowns. “I deserve that.”

“I remember now why I don’t do boyfriends,” Arthur says. “Too much drama, not enough sex.”

Lance laughs and Merlin scoffs. 

“I’d be a great boyfriend!” Merlin insists.

“You’d have to be gay first,” Arthur says. “Next round’s on you.”

***

On his first day, Arthur insists on driving Merlin to work with him.

“If we’ve seriously been together since we were twenty-five, then why aren’t we living together?” Arthur had asked last night on the phone. When Merlin was silent, Arthur groaned so loud Merlin had to pull his mobile away from his ear. “They think we live together?”

“Freya does.”

“Which means her father probably does as well.”

“Probably.”

“But – our paperwork will have different addresses on it.”

“I listed you as my emergency contact,” Merlin said, his voice low. “Back when I first started. I mean, I’ve been there five years. It stands to reason that I could have moved and not updated my home address to match yours.”

“You didn’t list Gwen?”

“No.”

Arthur was quiet for a moment. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.” And then he hung up the phone.

Now it’s ten minutes past eight and Merlin is shivering on the sidewalk in front of his flat, waiting for Arthur. When he finally shows up, Merlin jumps in and blasts the heat to warm himself up.

“I already turned on the seat warmers for you,” Arthur says. “Stop being so melodramatic.”

“You’re late,” Merlin says.

“There’s traffic on this side of town.” Arthur pulls away from the sidewalk and back into the line of cars going towards the middle of the city. “I also stopped at Starbucks for you.” 

Merlin looks down at the cup holder between the two front seats. “Oh wow. Thank you. Best boyfriend ever.”

“I figured if we lived together, then it would look weird if I stopped for my morning coffee but not for yours.”

“This is going to be a disaster isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it took me thirty minutes to drive to your flat and now I have to backtrack and pass my own flat to get to work.”

“I can take the train,” Merlin says. “It’s what I usually do.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ll let you explain to your boss – and Freya – why I’m driving my nice BMW with _heating_ to work while you stand on a train platform in near-freezing temperatures. Think that would go over well with either of them?”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“You didn’t think at all.”

“It’s not like you told me you were going to quit your job! I didn’t know you’d get hired on where I work! That part isn’t my fault!”

Arthur’s grip on his steering wheel tightens. 

“Did you interview anywhere else?”

“A few other firms.”

“Why mine?”

Arthur stops at a red light, but keeps his eyes forward. “I thought working with you would be fun. We worked at the same firm when I was a summer intern.”

“Yeah,” agrees Merlin, “but I had to buy you lunch every day because you didn’t get paid and I did.”

“Oh, you’re still paying for lunch.”

“What? You got a raise!”

“And an unexpected boyfriend.”

“Whatever,” Merlin grumbles. “So are you going to really pick me up every day?”

“I don’t want to. That adds almost an hour to my commute every day. There’s a flat available in my building. I think it’s a studio.”

“How many square feet?”

“Three hundred.”

“You’re fucking mad,” Merlin laughs.

They talk about the other people in the office the rest of the ride to work. Merlin walks Arthur to his new office, which has a temporary desk in it; he’ll get to pick out all his furnishings later in the day. Frederick takes them both out to lunch and Freya tags along. Even though Arthur tried to set the precedence that he’s a private person, most of the firm already thinks Merlin is gay with a live-in boyfriend. Merlin has no idea how two boyfriends are supposed to act in public – _“The same you would if I was your girlfriend,” Arthur had said_ – but Arthur took control of that for him. During the entire meal, Arthur keeps his arm on the back of Merlin’s chair, occasionally touching Merlin’s shoulder. He only removes it when he eats his chicken and roasted asparagus.

It’s fine. Merlin doesn’t find it awkward or weird at all. He also doesn’t get annoyed when Arthur is ten minutes late picking him up every morning the rest of the week because Arthur always hands him a caramel macchiato with extra caramel and extra espresso. 

On Friday, Frederick insists on taking them out to dinner to celebrate Arthur’s first week. He chooses a fancy restaurant and Merlin has to borrow a tie from Arthur. Usually he gets away with button-downs and slacks at work, but apparently this restaurant requires ties and jackets. 

“My shoulders are too small for this,” Merlin complains.

“You’re a lot skinnier than I am.”

“Lithe. I’m _lithe_.”

Arthur takes a deep breath. “You only have to wear it in and out. You can take it off at the table.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Fancy restaurants have fancy rules. Do you want to stay here or go?”

“They don’t have prices on their menu do they?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Probably not. If you have to ask, you probably can’t afford it.”

“Brilliant,” Merlin murmurs. “But I’m coming. Free meal and all.”

The restaurant has chandeliers and white table cloths. The menus all have foods with posh descriptions like caramelized, infused, and blanched.

“What’s Evoo?” Merlin whispers.

Arthur closes his eyes and places a hand over Merlin’s as though trying to keep himself from laughing. 

“What?”

Arthur leans closer and says under his breath, “It stands for extra virgin olive oil.”

Merlin feels his face heat. “For fuck’s sake, why don’t they just say that then?”

Arthur sits back up right and shrugs. “I doubt they have a children’s menu here for you.”

“I’m not that picky.”

“What looks good, gentlemen?” Frederick asks.

“I usually get the duck,” Arthur says. “Merlin’s never been here, actually.”

“I don’t like ties,” Merlin says, lightly tugging the one at his throat.

“You’ll like the lobster bisque,” Arthur tells him. “And there’s a chocolate mousse. I know that’s really why you’re here.”

Merlin closes the menu. “Yep. Order for me. Whatever you think I’ll eat.” He drinks from his water glass, which for some reason looks more like a wine glass, but whatever. Arthur told him he wasn’t allowed to ask for a straw. 

Frederick has an odd grid that Merlin tries to ignore. He’s here for Arthur, not for himself. He tries to remember that. He likes his boss, of course, but normally this is something he would have said _no_ to. When their server comes by, Frederick orders a bottle of wine for the table and a starter that sounds suspiciously like squid, which Merlin cannot imagine eating.

“Tell me how long have you two been together?” Frederick asks. “Merlin’s been in my employ for five years and I don’t think we’ve ever really gotten to know one on a personal level.”

“Feels like only a week,” Arthur jokes.

“Ah, that lovely honeymoon period.”

“Mmm,” Arthur replies noncommittedly. “We met at university.”

“I thought you went to college here.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re both from England.”

“Coincidence,” Arthur says. “We have different accents. I’m from London, but I suppose you’d consider my accent contemporary RP, which is what I was taught in school. Merlin’s from Bristol.”

“I don’t know British geography,” Frederick admits. “I’m very pleased you’re with us now, Arthur. Your reputation is astounding. If I’d known Merlin knew you, I would’ve tried to steal you much sooner. You know … my son is in law school now. He’s smart. Freya is sweet, but I don’t know how much she’ll amount to. Zero ambition. Thomas, though, he has something. He tells me I don’t understand him. He’s gay, you know. I don’t know how that translates to me not understanding him, but that’s the big division we have.”

Merlin wants to crawl under the table. He remembers when he knew nothing about his boss except that he was Freya’s dad and sometimes he took Fridays off to go golfing. Merlin always liked coming into the office, working, and leaving. He liked not being a part of his coworkers’ lives. Maybe he might feel differently if he didn’t spend all his free time with Arthur and Gwen, but really, he never felt as though he had enough time to fit anyone else into his life. Certainly not a seventy-year-old father who doesn’t know how to handle his twenty-five-year-old son.

“How was it for you when he came out?” Arthur asks.

Merlin drinks more water. He wishes he had a straw.

“Fine. I wasn’t surprised. But he kind of … sleeps around and I worry for him. He says none of his friends are in committed relationships and he’s young, I know, but I don’t believe he’s ever seen a committed gay couple before.”

“And you want me to be your gay poster child?” Arthur asks. Merlin cannot believe his balls.

“No, no, nothing of the sort. I didn’t know you were gay when I hired you, but my son will be a summer intern and I think it would be good if he could see a positive gay influence.”

Merlin can sense Arthur is on edge. “You know, he probably has a lot of positive influences, he’s just young and living his life.” He clears his throat. “We have a couple friends who are in committed relationships. One is straight and one is …” Merlin pauses. “How would you describe Gwaine?”

Arthur snorts. “Uh, very free.”

“Sure, okay, we can go with that. Anyway, I don’t know when either of them will get married or even if they will, but I think their lives still have value. You’ll always have a division with your son if you don’t let him be himself.”

“Very wise words, Merlin,” says Frederick.

The seerver stops back by with their wine bottle. He pours some which Frederick samples. He nods and the waiter pours a glass for all of them. Merlin sniffs it and then takes a sip. He’s pleasantly surprised. The last time he had wine he got shit-face drunk and had a two-day hangover.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Arthur says. “This is expensive wine, that’s why it isn’t giving you flashbacks.”

“I could get used to this,” Merlin admits.

The rest of dinner is easy enough. Mostly Frederick and Arthur spoke about past cases, new clients, and things like billable hours. Merlin knows he’s not being very charming, but this side of Arthur, the professional, isn’t one he’s used to being around. When the food finally comes, Merlin does not try the starter, but his bisque is delicious and he lets Arthur order him dessert to-go to enjoy back at home. He doesn’t drink more than one glass of wine; he’s known for being a little too honest when he gets drunk and the last thing they need is for Frederick to find out the truth. When it’s time to go, Arthur places a hand on his back as they walk back towards the entrance. They parked valet and wait for their cars. The valet brings Arthur’s BMW around first. Merlin thanks Frederick for dinner and lets Arthur take his hand as they walk down the steps towards the car.

Before grabbing the keys from the valet, Arthur open’s Merlin’s door. He lets go of Merlin’s hand and then says, “Don’t freak out.”

Merlin raises his eyebrows and glances over at Frederick who is watching them.

Arthur kisses Merlin’s cheek and then says in his ear, “You can get in the car now.”

A strange shiver goes down Merlin’s back and he climbs in. He’s silent on the drive back to his flat. He holds his mousse on his lap.

“You all right?”

“Yeah,” Merlin answers. “Those kinds of things – fancy dinners at fancy restaurants aren’t really my thing. How d’you do it? Like, how can you hang out with us at the bar and listen to our bullshit and then turn around and wear a tie and be posh and professional? Which one is the real you?”

“They both are.” When Arthur stops at a red light, he looks over at Merlin. “You remember from that summer we worked together. I know how to separate my job from my personal life.”

“I guess I forgot. I got so used to the fun you. I forgot what the professional you was like.”

“And now it’s the weekend so we can go back to normal. But we really do need to start thinking of how we’re going to break up.”

“You’ve been there a week. If we cite workplace differences, I’m so going to get sacked.”

Arthur sighs and turns left when the light turns green. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“So it has to be a mutual break up. Nothing sudden. We have to show we can still work together. Maybe after the holidays. You’ll have been at the firm a month by then and we can start pulling away from one another and have it be, you know, organic.”

“Organic. Sure.” Arthur clears his throat. “Thanks for coming to dinner. I know it’s not your thing and it only helped make me look better for my new boss.”

“I don’t know that I helped. I didn’t really say much.”

Arthur laughs. “Are you serious? You’re incredibly charming. Your dry wit? People eat that up.”

“Dry wit? You mean my sarcasm?”

“No, your wit. Humor.”

Merlin shakes his head, but doesn’t continue to argue. When Arthur pulls up in front of Merlin’s flat, Merlin hesitates for a second before saying goodbye and going upstairs.

***

Luckily the rugby match gets rained out on Saturday so Merlin holes himself in his flat all weekend and tries his best to ignore everyone. He’s not interested in giving Gwen the play by play of his week as Arthur’s boyfriend, and he’s not interested in whatever Arthur has to say about their upcoming work week. He hopes it’s smooth sailing all the way until Friday.

When Monday comes, Arthur is out in front of his flat, Starbucks ready and extra-hot. The seat warmers are on and—

“Oh my god, you bought me gloves?”

“No,” corrects Arthur. “I had an extra pair and you lost yours and I’m tired of you rubbing your hands together like a lunatic.”

“Best boyfriend ever.”

“Yeah, tell that to someone cute and gay.”

“The right guy is out there for you. Maybe you’ve met him and you don’t even know it yet.”

Arthur doesn’t respond but Merlin hates silence so he babbles while Arthur fights through traffic. It’s mostly inane things like the weird shows he discovered on Netflix over the weekend and whether or not he’ll get to see his uncle when he goes home for Christmas. His mom, yes, but his uncle is supposedly on a personal journey of self-discovery.

“Whatever the fuck that means,” Merlin mumbles.

When they pull into the parking deck at the high-rise office building, Arthur says, “I have to wake up an hour early every day just to pick you up and the traffic is terrible. We have to figure something else out. You can stay in my extra bedroom until we break up.”

“That’s your office.”

“I’ll move my stuff into the dining room. I don’t ever use that table anyway.”

“I’ll take the train to your flat in the mornings.”

“You’re going to walk a mile in the cold from the station to my building?”

Merlin scrunches his face. “Ew, yeah, I forgot you’re not on the line like I am. I guess I can take a taxi or an Uber.”

“That seems unnecessary, but whatever you want,” Arthur says. “The offer is there if you change your mind.”

The workweek goes slowly. Arthur meets with some new potential clients and every day they go to lunch, just as they did the week before. It’s something Merlin knows he’ll miss if they break up; it would be too suspicious if they continued after they’re supposedly no longer a couple. This week is less pressure than last week. He doesn’t feel as though everyone is watching him anymore and, really, Arthur works on the other side of the floor so they don’t cross paths too often. Having to take an Uber to Arthur’s flat every morning might end up breaking the bank, though, and twice his ride was late which meant Arthur was late.

On Friday, Frederick skips out after lunch to take a client golfing, which is always an invitation for everyone to leave early. Merlin figures Arthur won’t, but he doesn’t want to take the train home when it’s near freezing temperatures outside. Instead he gathers his things and goes into Arthur’s office and sits down in one of the spare chairs. The space looks nothing like it did on Arthur’s first day. It’s been repainted a soft gray like the other offices, but all the furnishings are different shades of blue. Arthur’s desk is a charcoal color that matches the rug underneath the blue sofa, but the pillows, vases, and even the eclectic art on the walls are all various shades of cobalt, indigo, and sapphire. Most of the other lawyers who get their own offices go for either modern touches or overtly lavish. Merlin’s impressed at how subdued Arthur’s office is.

“This is good, your office, I mean. All the other ones are pretentious.”

Arthur looks up. “Come on, make yourself at home.”

“You have a sofa in here. You expecting a lot of late nights here or something?” Merlin picks up a frame off Arthur’s desk and turns it around. “There’s no photo.”

“The lady who did all this” – Arthur gestures across the room – “also gave me a bunch of matching frames. I suppose she thought I’d like to post pictures of my family or something. Why’ve you got your bag?”

“Frederick is gone, it’s officially the weekend.”

Arthur shakes his head. “I have another two hours. There’re things I need to do.”

Merlin pouts. “Oh, but come on. We can go to the pub, call up Lance and Gwen. We haven’t seen them in almost a week, mind. Don’t make me take the train home.”

Someone knocks on Arthur’s open office door.

“Hello, Percy,” Merlin says. “Will you please explain to my boyfriend that when Freddy leaves, we all go home early?”

“Office policy,” Percy confirms. “I actually wanted to invite you out to King George’s Tavern.” He pauses and looks at Merlin. “You, too, Merlin.”

“Oh, no thanks,” says Merlin. The last place he wants to be is stuck in a pretentious bar at four in the afternoon with a bunch of lawyers. He looks back at Arthur and mouths, “Pub. Lance. Gwen. Go.”

Arthur studies him for a moment before turning back to Percy with a smile. “Sure, we’d love to come.”

“Great. We’re all leaving now. See you there.”

When Percy is gone, Merlin glares at Arthur. “I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What am I supposed to say to a bunch of lawyers?”

“You’ve worked here for five years, Merlin. You talk to lawyers every day.”

“You’re doing this to torture me.”

“Of course I am!” Arthur admits. “That’s all the fun.”

“Did you cheat on me at your old firm? Did you go out with them all the time and not tell me?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. And, no, I rarely went out with any of them. I hated it over there. I like it here. They all really like you, too.”

“No, they don’t. I never get invited out.”

“Percy told me last week that they stopped inviting you because you always said no. Told them you had to go hang out with your boyfriend. You made me look needy.”

Merlin shrugs. “I mean … if the shoe fits.”

“I told him we just have other friends we see, but I certainly never minded if you went out with people from work. So now we’re going out so I can redeem my reputation.” Arthur powers down his computer and puts his keyboard and mouse in the desk drawer. He gathers up some files and papers and sticks them in his bag. 

Merlin grabs his stuff and follows Arthur out of the office. As they walk towards the elevators, Arthur undoes his tie and rolls it up. He puts it in his bag with his paper and then clasps everything back closed. Merlin pushes the down button and turns to Arthur. He can see Percy and Elyan, another attorney, walking towards them. 

With a deep breath, Merlin reaches over and undoes the top two buttons of Arthur’s shirt. He smooths out his collar and then says, “That’s better,” as Elyan slaps a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“This is great that you’re coming out. The girls are already there getting us a table.”

“Who’re the girls?” Arthur asks.

“Two of the other associates, Audrey and Sophie. As soon as Freddy’s out the door, they go ahead and reserve seats.”

“And you all call him Freddy behind his back?” Arthur asks.

“That’s the nicest thing they call him behind his back,” Merlin replies. 

Elyan and Percy laugh. 

The elevator opens and they all get in. The bar is just a couple blocks from the office, so they all store their bags and briefcases in their cars and walk over together. Merlin’s never been to King George’s, and as soon as he walks in his senses are assaulted by all the British flags and memorabilia on the walls. Everything inside is wood, including the walls and ceiling. A chalkboard advertises Today’s Special: Bangers & Mash and Merlin wants to go back home.

“You owe me,” Merlin says.

Percy and Elyan call them over to a corner where four tables have been smashed together. Two chairs in the middle are left and Merlin sits down first. Arthur takes off his jacket and puts it on the back of his chair. He unbuttons the cuff of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves. Merlin grabs his wrist and looks at the watch.

“You still wear this old thing?” he asks. “It’s a million years old.”

“What? I like it.”

“Can’t you afford a Rolex to match your BMW by now?”

Percy looks over the table. “Are we looking at your watch?”

Arthur tugs his arm out of Merlin’s grasp and picks up a menu. “What’s good here? Oh, look, fish and chips _and_ grande-sized nachos. Feels just like home.”

“Are we playing the game?” Elyan asks.

“Yes,” says Percy.

“What game?” Merlin asks.

“Credit card roulette,” Percy answers. “Everyone orders whatever they want and when we’re ready to pay, we all put our cards in the middle of the table and make the waitress pick one of them to pay for the whole tab.

“There’s ten of us here,” Merlin says. “Do I have to play if I only order water?”

“It’s fine,” Arthur says. “We’ll play.” He looks at Merlin. “Order whatever you want.” The way he stares so intently at him, Merlin gives in and grabs the menu out of his hand.

“Corn dogs,” Merlin reads. “Just like King George ate when you peasants seceded.”

Percy laughs. “I didn’t know you were so funny, Merlin.”

“He hides it well, doesn’t he?” Arthur puts an arm around the back of Merlin’s chair.

“I’m ordering a round of shots for the table,” Elyan says. “Hope everyone is good with Patron.”

“Oh god,” Merlin says. “I can’t. That shit makes my clothes fall off.”

“Yes, you can,” says Arthur. “Do it,” he says to Elyan.

Four shots later and Merlin feels like his brain is floating. Arthur orders him a Coke and they share a plate of French fries and a grilled cheese sandwich. Arthur seems relaxed, just as relaxed as he usually is when they go out with Lance and Gwen, and Merlin likes this side of him best. Forget fancy restaurants and foods that he can’t pronounce, Merlin wants to be around this Arthur always. The one who orders him food off the kids’ menu and makes sure he has a straw for his soda. Although that’s the Arthur he’s known since they were both eighteen.

“Okay, okay,” says Percy. “So what’s your story, Arthur? I’d never want to work with my girlfriend. That seems like it’d be awful.”

Arthur shrugs. “Middleton made me the best offer out of any of the other firms. I couldn’t turn it down. And Merlin and I don’t work together. He’s Middleton’s assistant and won’t ever be mine, so we don’t really have to cross paths if we didn’t want to.”

“But seeing my girlfriend every day?” Percy shakes his head. “I think that would get old. Hypothetical girlfriend in my case, of course.”

“We’ve worked together before,” Merlin says. “It was fun. I used to take all the ink out of his pens when he was an intern.”

“That was you?” Arthur cries. “Are you kidding me?”

Merlin laughs. “No. It was hilarious watching you try to write day after day and never understanding why none of your pens worked.”

“You little shit.”

Merlin grins.

Arthur shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you held on to that secret for, what, eight _years_?”

Merlin’s grin widens. “Yep.”

“You guys are so cute together,” Audrey says. She’s sitting on the other side of Percy. She twirls a blonde lock of hair around her finger. “All the hot ones are always gay or married.”

“I hear that a lot,” Arthur laughs. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Are you going to get married or have kids?” she asks.

“Oh boy,” says Merlin. “Not enough alcohol for such serious questions.”

“I do,” Arthur says, sounding completely sober. “But I don’t know if Merlin does.”

Merlin’s brain tries to catch up to his ears. Is Arthur planting the seed of doubt? The reason they’ll break up? It’s really genius except—

“Merlin does,” says Sophie from down the table. “He told me once how he wants to be a dad.”

Merlin tries to remember. He knows he told Freya that once, but Freya is Sophie’s assistant so maybe she was there too…

“That’s so sweet,” Audrey whines. “God, why are all the good ones taken? I’m stuck with these two idiots.” She points to Elyan and Percy. “They’re the last bachelors out there and I already know all their secrets.”

Elyan shakes his head. “I’m sure we still have a couple you don’t know about yet.”

Audrey ignores him. “Okay, so you met in college,” she says, “but is that when you got together?”

Arthur looks at Merlin for the answer. Merlin tries to remember what he’s told Freya. Shit, he isn’t sure he remembers.

“No, it’s been, er, six years? Or seven?” He looks back at Arthur, hoping for help.

“Almost seven,” says Arthur. “Right before you got the job at Middleton.”

Merlin hiccups. “Right.”

“So the seven years before that?” Audrey says. “You were just friends?”

“Yes. Actually, you want to hear an incredibly embarrassing story about Merlin?” Arthur asks. He puts both elbows on the table and leans over, as though trying to get closer to Audrey.

“Uh, _duh_ ,” Audrey laughs. 

Percy and Elyan both look overly interested as well. Merlin is certain that in the fourteen years they’ve known each other, there’s countless embarrassing stories about him. He’s not known for his grace and eloquence.

“So we took a lot of the same courses at university, but junior year we took an ethics class and we had to do this debate.”

“No,” Merlin says. “Please don’t.” He covers his face with his hands. 

“Oh, no,” says Percy, “please do.”

“If you tell this story, you’re totally not getting blown tonight.”

Arthur chortles. “I wasn’t going to get blown anyway.”

The table howls with laughter.

“Anyway,” Arthur continues, “the night before the debates we got beyond drunk off really cheap tequila, the kind in a plastic bottle. Merlin didn’t live with us, but he probably slept on the sofa more than he did in his own room. So neither of our alarms go off in time for class and we wake up with _maybe_ ten minutes to spare. But. We can’t find Merlin’s trousers.”

“Where were your trousers, Merlin?” Percy asks with a deep laugh.

“I give him a pair of my jeans, but look at him. I had at least three stone on him.”

“What’s a stone?” Audrey asks.

“I probably weighed thirty, forty pounds more than him.”

“Yeah, he’s kinda skinny and you clearly work out.”

“I’m lithe,” Merlin corrects, removing his hands from his face. 

The waitress comes back around and hands out another round of shots. Merlin doesn’t wait for anyone to say cheers and tips his back immediately.

“So normally he has size twenty-eight jeans that he wears with a belt, and mine are bigger and we didn’t even think to grab a belt. We’re sprinting to class and get there late, completely hungover, and the professor calls on Merlin to go first. He gets up, grabs his note cards he’s prepared, and the jeans fall down and he trips over them and falls flat on his face.”

Audrey gasps while Percy and Elyan burst out laughing.

“He gets up, holds up the jeans while he goes to the front of the class. It’s him and some other guy debating ethics, right? There isn’t a podium, so every time Merlin wants to go through his cards, he has to take a hand off his jeans and then they fall down.”

“You poor thing,” Audrey moans while Percy and Elyan continue to laugh.

“So he decides – fuck it. And he just lets the jeans sit around his ankles until he’s completely done with his presentation, pulls them up, and goes and sits back down. He had on superman boxers, which, really, is the best part of the story.”

Merlin’s face is on fire. He tries not to laugh along with the guys, but they’ve got tears in their eyes and Merlin has to press his lips together to hold his own laughter in.

“I love this story,” says Audrey. “Sorry, Merlin, but it’s so good.”

“That’s when I knew,” Arthur says, his voice a little softer, “that I couldn’t ever get rid of him. He always makes me laugh.”

Merlin feels something warm spread across his chest but he pushes it away as he elbows Arthur playfully and shakes his head. “I’m going to remember this. Payback will be a bitch.”

Arthur laughs and then presses a kiss to his temple, just like he did when he put Merlin in the car after dinner with Frederick. Then he takes his shot of tequila and slaps his credit card down on the table.

“Time to pay up,” he says. “Cards on the table.”

***

> **Merlin:** _Gwen, I have to break up with him. He’s telling everyone at work my most embarrassing stories._
> 
> **Gwen:** _I’m sure he knows all of them by now._
> 
> **Merlin:** _He’s gotta go._
> 
> **Gwen:** _Doesn’t he buy you Starbucks every morning?_
> 
> **Merlin:** _What’s your point?_
> 
> **Gwen:** _And didn’t he pay the tab when you lost credit card roulette?_
> 
> **Merlin:** _Again: What’s your point?_
> 
> **Gwen:** _Wasn’t that an $800 tab?_
> 
> **Gwen:** _He sounds better than any of the girlfriends you’ve had._
> 
> **Merlin:** _Except he’s not a girl._
> 
> **Merlin:** _My uber is dropping me off at his flat so he can drive me to work. I’ll call you after work._
> 
> **Gwen:** _XOXO_

***

The next week everyone keeps stopping by Merlin’s desk to tell him how much fun they had at King George’s with him. He suspects it’s mostly to do with the embarrassing story Arthur told, but maybe also because he’s as funny as Arthur keeps telling him he is. Either way, it’s nice feeling like his coworkers like him, but he also misses the anonymity he had before Arthur came to work here.

On Monday and Tuesday Arthur has client lunches so he makes up for it on Wednesday by taking him out for pizza. Merlin gets extra cheese and pepperoni while Arthur gets fancy stuff like basil and sundried tomatoes. 

“Are you excited for the office Christmas party?” Merlin asks.

“When is it?”

“Next Friday. Frederick always gets a ballroom at the hotel, fully catered, open bar, the works. He’ll stay for a couple hours, hand out all the year-end bonuses and then he’ll leave and let everyone else drink all the booze until there’s none left. Audrey usually ends up leaving with Percy, she does every year.”

“That’s surprising. I thought she was more into Elyan,” Arthur replies.

“You didn’t hear this from me, mind, but I’m pretty sure the three of them hook up from time to time. Like at the same time.” He shrugs and shoves half a slice into his mouth. 

“Are you ready for holiday back home?”

“Nup,” Merlin says around a mouthful of pizza. He swallows hard. “Sorry, that was a ‘nope.’” 

They always buy their tickets together to and from England for Christmas, sit next to one another on the flights, but part at the airport. Arthur’s sister usually meets him to take him back to whatever mansion they grew up in while Merlin’s mum drives him back to the farmhouse in Bristol. Merlin’s been to Arthur’s childhood home once and he swears he got lost looking for the loo. Arthur’s never been to Bristol, which is fine because Merlin doesn’t know that he wants Arthur to see the tiny house he grew up in.

“When does the flight leave?” Merlin asks.

“Next Sunday morning. Don’t forget to pack your headphones this time.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Arthur smirks. He reaches across the table and slowly swipes his thumb across the corner of Merlin’s mouth. “You had tomato sauce,” he says, “just there.”

Merlin watches his hand as he pulls it away and wipes the sauce on a napkin. “You play the part of boyfriend much better than I do.”

Arthur shrugs. “You overthink it. I’ve only ever had boyfriends so it’s not a lot of pretending on my part. You’ve only had girlfriends. You think it’s different, but it’s really not.”

“Seems like it should be different.”

“How?”

“I dunno. With a girl, I might bring her flowers or take her on a surprise date. Hold hands while walking down the street. Guys aren’t romantic like that.”

“What makes you think I don’t like flowers?” Arthur challenges. He seems to wait for Merlin to respond, but when there’s silence, he continues. “Not all girls want flowers and romantic dinners. Some guys want that, some don’t. Relationships are all simply two people. Forget the parts they have, we’re all very similar. Do you remember the bloke I was with our last year of university?”

Merlin pulls a face. “Gross. Yeah, he wore that weird cologne and – didn’t he wear eyeliner, too?”

“I’ll give you the cologne, but I don’t remember the eyeliner.”

“That’s because you were too busy getting laid.”

Arthur nods. “True. The point was, he liked flowers and surprises and cuddling. So much cuddling. The very next guy I dated wanted none of that. We held hands sometimes, but rarely. So the things I do with you are things I naturally do, only you don’t get the good stuff.”

“Wait, I want the good stuff. After you told the story of my ethics debate in my underwear, I deserve the good stuff.”

“You couldn’t handle it,” Arthur says. He motions to their server for the check. “You want that soda to go?”

Merlin glances down at his half-full glass of Coke and shakes his head. “No, I’m good.”

Arthur hands over his credit card. Once he’s signed the receipt, they’re out the door and walking the three blocks back to their building. All the cars driving by are loud and there’s the occasional blaring of a horn or screeching of brakes. The city has never been calm, but that’s kind of what Merlin loves about it. As they walk down the sidewalk, he keep glancing at Arthur as they walk, imagining what it would be like as a boyfriend. He’s never come across as exceedingly romantic, but he is sentimental. Over the last two weeks Merlin’s gotten a glimpse of how physical Arthur probably is: an arm around the back of his chair at dinner, a light cupping of his elbow as they walk through a door, straightening his collar before they walk into work, touching his lower back when they wait for an elevator – even swiping away a bit of pizza sauce.

“Stop looking at me,” Arthur says, “you’re creeping me out.”

“Can I try something?”

“I don’t know. Not if it’s going to be weird.”

Merlin rolls his eyes and then takes Arthur’s hand in his. Arthur looks at him with a surprised expression on his face.

“Frederick’s just up the way,” Merlin says with a shrug. “Appearances and all. It feels weird, though. Your hand is so much bigger than most hands I’ve held.”

“I’m not dainty.”

“Eh, it’s not too bad. It’s kind of nice knowing that if I fall you’d be able to catch me.”

“Because my hand is bigger?”

“No, stupid,” Merlin laughs, “because you’re strong.”

“Good afternoon, Frederick,” Arthur says as they approach the front door to the building. He lets go of Merlin’s hand, but cups his elbow as he guides Merlin through the door after their boss. Merlin isn’t even so sure Arthur knows he’s doing it.

***

Merlin does the math. For almost two full weeks of taking an Uber to Arthur’s flat every morning cost him over two-hundred dollars. Luckily it’s Friday, the day of the office Christmas party, and then they’ll bot have two glorious weeks off from work where they don’t have to worry about traffic or clients or pretending to be boyfriends. They just have to get through this one evening and then they’re free to relax for an entire fortnight. 

Arthur’s already refused to get a hotel room. “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and have to look at all the other hungover lawyers in the lobby when we check out,” was his excuse. He promises to get properly drunk, but only if he can Uber back to his own flat. Everyone is dressed nicely, but luckily ties aren’t required so Arthur dresses more casually in dark slacks and a soft gray jumper with a red button down peeking out from around his neck and wrists. Merlin appreciates the aesthetic.

“You look good.”

“Be still my heart,” Arthur jokes. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Whatever. Everyone already tells you you’re gorgeous all the time, you don’t really need me to add to it.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Arthur pushes with a small laugh.

“I mean, objectively you’re attractive, I guess. Stop making it weird, let’s go.” Merlin grabs his coat and the gloves Arthur didn’t buy him (except he totally did) and makes his way out of Arthur’s flat. Their driver takes them to the Four Seasons where they find their way to the East Ballroom where Frederick has set up the Christmas party.

Inside everything is decked out for the holidays. The table clothes are red with white poinsettias in the middle. There’s a large table with food on silver platters on the right side of the room and a DJ playing music on the left. There’s a stage in the middle with a dance floor in front of it. In the center of the room is a large Christmas tree decorated in dark red and silver with a bow on the top that has ribbons that go all the way to the floor. In the back of the room is the bar where a server in a black bow tie is already shaking drinks.

“This is beautiful,” Merlin says. “Last year wasn’t as fancy, but we also had almost twice as much revenue this year.”

“Listen to you sounding like you know what you’re talking about.”

“I may have seen everyone’s bonuses,” Merlin admits. “I had to put them in envelopes. Except mine. Frederick refused to show me what I got. He got you something, you know. Not a bonus, mind, since you’ve only been there four weeks, but still. He can be really generous.”

Arthur looks impressed. “All right, so, what first? Drinks?”

“They’re free tonight so duh.”

They walk to the bar and Arthur orders for him. They pick a table and sit and watch their coworkers. Merlin tells him stories of the previous five Christmas parties he’s been to and all the scandals he’s seen.

“Ever wonder why you never seen the Pendergrass of Middleton and Pendergrass and Associates? He cheated on his wife at one of these parties.”

“What an idiot,” says Arthur.

“It’s worse. He cheated on her with one of the male servers. Twenty-six years younger than him. I think the hotel sacked him.”

Freya stops by their table for a bit, followed by Audrey. Arthur gets up several times to refill their drinks and once to get them a plate of food to share. He comes back with two plates, one of just macaroni and cheese for Merlin. He gets into a deep conversation with Elyan about things Merlin finds remarkably dull, but just as Merlin is about to get up and go find someone more interesting to talk to, Arthur takes his hand and pulls it into his lap. He starts to massage his palm and then his wrist and he feels so strangely good that Merlin stops caring how boring he sounds right now talking about contracts and litigation.

Somewhere around drink six or seven, Frederick makes his usual year-end speech and hands out all the bonus envelopes. He leaves Merlin for last and when he gets up to go to the stage, Frederick says into the mic, “I don’t know how I survive without this guy. We always talk about how important our partners are, but really, without our assistants, we’d be useless. Thank you, Merlin, for scheduling my life. You probably don’t realize how you alone keep my business going.”

Merlin is surprised at how humble the words make him feel and he thanks Frederick and takes his envelope and heads back to the table. 

“Are you going to open it?” Arthur asks.

They’re at the table alone again, everyone else has started dancing. Merlin isn’t sure. He knows what everyone else got, which was divided out on a scale based on rank and seniority. He also knows what’s on the other assistants’ checks, so he has a guess, but this is the first year Frederick wouldn’t let him see his own before the party.

“I don’t know. He made a big deal this week about keeping it quiet, so I don’t know. What if it’s small?”

“What if it’s not?”

Merlin takes a deep breath and opens it. There’s a Christmas card where Frederick wrote all the nice things he said on the stage and folded in between the words is a check exactly like everyone else’s. Merlin takes it and looks at it. His hands shake ever so slightly.

“You okay?”

Arthur glances down at the amount. “Is that more than you were expecting?”

Merlin nods. “It’s about five times what I usually get at Christmas.”

“Wow, good for you.”

Merlin drops the card and the check on the table. “It’s too much. He must have dementia.”

“Merlin,” Arthur says, his voice firm. “He does not.” He grabs one of the legs of Merlin’s chair and turns him so they’re facing one another. “You do this a lot, did you know? This sort of self-deprecating hole you put yourself in where you don’t believe you’re as good as other people say you are. Your boss got on stage in front of the entire law firm to tell them that you were the most important employee he has. He could have said a simple _thank you_ , but instead he made sure that all of us knew how great you are.”

Merlin shakes his head, but Arthur cups his jaws in his hands and makes him stop.

“I’m serious,” confirms Arthur. “And good on you for making other people realize how amazing you are. Now maybe you’ll finally believe it when I tell you.”

“You never tell me I’m amazing.”

Arthur drops his hands and sighs. He picks up his drink and downs the rest of it. “I may not use that one specific word, but I say it all the time.” He stands. “Do you want another drink?”

Merlin nods and Arthur walks towards the bar in the back of the room. He watches him go.

“Merlin, let’s dance!”

He looks up. Freya holds out a hand. She has on a red dress that dips low and shows off her deep cleavage. She must have worn a wrap while her father was still here because Merlin is pretty sure if she was walking around like this earlier even Arthur would have noticed her chest. He’s not much of a dancer, but he feels really weird after Arthur’s praise, so he shoves the Christmas bonus check in his pocket and lets Freya take him to the dance floor.

Hip hop from the early 2000s play and Merlin can’t help but laugh at the memories. These were the songs playing when he and Arthur and their friends from university would play drinking games in Arthur’s college apartment. Merlin isn’t much of a dancer, but he’s drunk enough that he’s pretty sure that not only does he not care, nobody else does either. One song turns into two, which turns into three, and halfway through, Arthur cuts in.

“It’s nice to see your dance moves haven’t improved with age.”

Merlin sniggers. “Like you’re one to talk.”

Suddenly the music changes from fast to slow and Merlin freezes in place. Arthur rolls his eyes and says, “Let me lead,” and takes his hand in his. Merlin tries not to look at him, but his eyes seem to be drawn right to Arthur’s.

“This doesn’t really seem like the kind of holiday party a seventy-year-old man would throw,” Arthur says.

“The next oldest lawyer is only forty-two. It’s actually quite a young firm. I think that’s why he leaves so early every year, so the rest of us can enjoy our one night of debauchery.” Merlin clears his throat. “Despite us having to break up soon, I’m really glad you’re here. I forgot what it was like seeing you every day.”

“Mm,” Arthur hums, a noncommittal sound.

“You’re my best mate, you know.”

Arthur takes in a deep breath. “Yeah … yeah, I know.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed about it,” Merlin laughs.

Arthur looks pained. “Merlin, the truth is—”

“Oh my god. No, don’t turn around! Freya’s walking around trapping couples with mistletoe. If we’re quick we can escape without her—”

“Not so fast!” Freya calls.

Merlin’s already turned around to make a run for it, but he pauses when he hears her voice. He knows she’s talking right to them. He slowly turns back around and grimaces.

She holds the mistletoe up and gives it a little shake.

“You know I don’t really like PDA,” Merlin says.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Freya laughs.

“Do it!” Audrey yells from somewhere in the crowd.

Merlin looks at Arthur. His eyes look almost pained, like he doesn’t want to do this any more than Merlin does, and for some reason that makes Merlin’s stomach twist. He leans over and kisses Arthur’s cheeks. 

All their coworkers boo.

“This is ridiculous,” Merlin mutters under his breath.

Freya shakes the mistletoe again. “You know I’m not giving up until I see a proper kiss.”

Merlin tries not to grimace but gives a little nod to Arthur.

Arthur puts one hand on Merlin’s hip and pulls him closer. His other hand cups Merlin’s cheek, his thumb tracing across his cheekbone. Then, slowly – ever so slowly – Arthur’s mouth meets his. It’s soft, the gentle press of Arthur’s lips against his, and without thinking, Merlin opens his mouth slightly. He feels a tentative sweep of Arthur’s tongue against his and then Arthur’s hand goes from his cheek to the back of his neck, as though holding him in place. Merlin feels something vibrate and he’s unsure if he’s moaning or if Arthur is, but he can feel it, and it’s intense, like lightning or electricity. He’s sure he’s been kissed like this before, but damn if he can’t remember when.

He doesn’t know when he becomes aware of it, but the loud sound of his heart beating between his ears is replaced with all his coworkers clapping and whistling. Merlin jerks back, a little dizzy and a lot dazed. He glances at Freya who looks satisfied and walks towards Audrey and Percy with her mistletoe.

Then Merlin looks at Arthur. He can’t read the expression on Arthur’s face. It looks blank, as though he has no feelings whatsoever about what just happened. Before he can speak, Elyan drapes an arm around his shoulders and says, “That was probably the hottest fucking kiss I’ve ever seen and I’m straight.” He howls out a laugh, throws back the rest of his beer, and walks away.

“Are you all right?” Arthur asks. 

Merlin nods. “Yeah, sure, I’m fine.”

“Not too bad? First time kissing a bloke?”

“I, uh – I think I’m ready to go home.”

Something flashes in Arthur’s eyes – disappointment, hurt, relief? – but Merlin isn’t in the proper headspace to interpret it right now. He walks back towards their table and grabs his coat and gloves. He hopes Arthur is ordering their Uber because he isn’t sure he can even remember how to use his mobile right now. They wait outside in the cold until a white Jeep pulls up and they get in the back. Merlin is quiet, unsure of the proper words.

“I’m guessing you weren’t ready for that,” Arthur says.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“We can break up after the holiday. It’s actually a good excuse. No one will have seen us for two weeks and we can come back to work in January and be done before February.”

Merlin nods. “Right. Does that mean you’ll stop taking me to lunch?”

Arthur pauses for a beat and then says, “Absolutely not.”

“Okay, good.”

They’re quiet for the rest of the ride and Arthur makes sure Merlin is dropped off first. When Merlin opens the door, Arthur says, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Gift exchange with Lance and Gwen? Four o’clock at the pub.”

“Right,” says Merlin, remembering. “Right. See you then.” 

He closes the door and refuses to look back as he walks towards the front door to his building. He’s only three floors up and he feels as though battery acid is running through his veins so he jogs up the stairs instead of taking the elevator in hopes of releasing some of this energy. He takes a shower, even though he’s a little unsteady on his feet still, and climbs into bed. It only takes him ten minutes before he realizes that he’s never going to fall asleep. He grabs his laptop off his bedside table and pulls up Netflix. He presses play on an episode of _Arrested Development_ but quickly turns it off because all he can think about is how he watched this with Arthur during law school.

He covers his face with his pillow and groans. Why did Arthur have to be such a good kisser? That was ridiculous. No wonder he is always so cocky whenever he hooks up with guys. He must know he’s really good in bed – not that Merlin thinks he might be good in bed, although if that kiss was any indication…

“Fuck!” Merlin cries.

But here’s the thing. Merlin’s never been all the way to the zero on the Kinsey scale. He’s felt attraction to men before, here and there. Enough attraction that he knows he’s probably a two, but not so much that he feels he’s anywhere in the middle. He’s stumbled upon gay porn a couple times when certain search terms accidentally brought it up. He liked most of what he saw. Except, it never occurred to him to date a man, but he’s not internally freaking out right now because he liked kissing one. That part is new, but not really surprising. No, he’s freaking out because he liked kissing Arthur. His absolute best friend in the world. 

He lifts the pillow when he hears his phone vibrate.

> **Arthur:** _Stop freaking out._
> 
> **Merlin:** _I’m not._
> 
> **Arthur:** _It’s okay. I’m freaking out too._
> 
> **Merlin:** _Why?_
> 
> **Arthur:** _I’ve kissed loads of guys. You haven’t. I hope I didn’t push you too far and make you uncomfortable. It was just a kiss._

Merlin stares at that last text. It was just a kiss. _It was just a kiss_. Of course that’s how Arthur feels. Kissing guys for him is second nature. He’s known for hooking up. Not every night, but often enough that they’ve all joked he’ll run out of men in another couple years and have to move. So, you know, of course it’s no big deal to him. And of course he thinks it’s a big deal to Merlin who doesn’t hook up that often, and never with another man. Kissing like that in a room full of people is uncharacteristic of him, whereas Arthur probably does it in clubs all the time.

He reads it and rereads it and for some reason starts to get angry.

> **Merlin:** _Yep. Just a kiss._
> 
> **Arthur:** _Are we okay?_
> 
> **Arthur:** _Hello?_
> 
> **Merlin:** _Sorry, dozed off. Tired._
> 
> **Merlin:** _We’re okay._

It was a lie of course – he didn’t doze off and no, he wasn’t sure if they were okay.

***

Merlin doesn’t want to meet Lance and Gwen at the pub, but he can’t think of a good enough excuse why not. He has a bag with everyone’s presents in it, including Arthur’s. For a moment he thinks Arthur’s skipped out because he’s nearly thirty minutes late, but he shows up, his shoulders covered in snow.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I had to leave my car in a parking garage down the street. No street parking and the way the snow is coming down, I hope I can drive home.” He slides into the booth next to Merlin.

“You have a _snow_ setting in your car,” Lance says. “I’m sure you can drive safely home.”

“I know,” Arthur replies with a grin. “Anyway, what’d I miss?”

“Just catching up. Haven’t seen you two in over a week.”

Merlin feels tense. He’s pretty sure Arthur’s never sat this close to him before. He stirs the ice around in his soda with his straw.

“Yeah? What’s Merlin told you?”

“Not much,” Gwen admits. “He’s in a bad mood today.”

Merlin glances at Arthur who looks surprised.

“I thought you said you were okay.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” He takes a sip of his drink and then resumes pushing his ice around.

“Did something happen at work?” Gwen asks.

“No,” Arthur answers.

Merlin wants to go home. “I don’t feel well, can you move?”

Arthur remains seated. “No way. Stop being immature. You’re normally not like this. Are you angry with me?”

“No, of course not. I think I’m hungover.”

“You’re not hungover. Stay and order some chips and we’ll exchange presents.”

Merlin tries to put his coat on while still sitting in the booth. 

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asks.

“Nothing,” says Merlin. “Are you seriously going to keep me trapped in here?”

“Yes,” Arthur answers. “You told me we were fine.”

“I _am_ fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Lance says.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asks again.

“For fuck’s sake – _nothing_.”

“He’s pissed off because I kissed him last night and he liked it,” Arthur states matter-of-factly. 

“I didn’t _like_ it!” Merlin cries. “Jesus! And thanks for airing our dirty laundry for everyone to hear! It’s none of their business.”

“I told you I was sorry.”

“And I told you I was fine.”

“But clearly you’re not.”

Merlin takes a deep breath and then says, “I’m not talking about it in front of them.” He gestures to Gwen and Lance.

“Let’s go to the bar,” Gwen suggests. “Want us to order food for you guys?”

Arthur says yes at the same time Merlin says no.

“Order him some chips,” Arthur says. “And a grilled cheese.”

Gwen and Lance don’t so much leave as escape. Merlin watches them go. Arthur shifts in his seat so he’s facing Merlin, arm draped across the back of the booth. He doesn’t say anything until Merlin looks at him.

“Listen—”

“No,” says Merlin. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Why are you freaking out? Because you liked it?”

Merlin is quiet.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. So you liked it? So what? It’s a biological response. It doesn’t mean you’re gay, so you can stop freaking out about it. And I promise not to do it again if someone puts mistletoe above us. I’ll take it and find someone else to snog.” He waits and when Merlin still doesn’t answer, he shakes his shoulder lightly and says, “I promise kissing me doesn’t make you gay. And just because I did it doesn’t mean we’re going to hop into bed together.” Arthur pauses. “I mean, because that’s not what I want,” he adds in a rush. “Because it’s not. I was caught up in Freya’s game with the mistletoe. All right?”

Merlin nods. “Okay,” he croaks. He clears his throat. “Okay. Yeah.”

“Back to being best mates?”

Merlin nods again. “Yeah – yeah, of course.”

“Promise me you’re all right?”

Merlin nods a third time.

Arthur turns around and waves Gwen and Lance back. Merlin tries to shake off the weird feeling as they eat dinner and exchange gifts. He thinks he must be a good actor because no one asks if he’s sure he’s okay again, even though he’s really not. 

He liked the kiss, he really did. But clearly Arthur doesn’t share the same sentiment. Truthfully, he doesn’t know what he would do if Arthur also liked it, if he wanted to do it again. It might be too weird, doing something with a guy – or more specifically, with Arthur. It might have ruined their friendship and Merlin isn’t sure he’d want that. Except Arthur didn’t ask if he wanted to do it again because clearly Arthur doesn’t feel the same, but Merlin would have really liked the chance to choose.

***

The flight to Heathrow is a little tense, but not miserable. They talk about their plans for the holiday and exchange memories of what it was like to grow up in England. Arthur lived in London and went to a really posh boarding school. It was better that way because he didn’t really get along with his father. His sister went to an all-girls’ school, but got kicked out before she finished and ended up at public school. She’s threatened to come live with him in the States, but Arthur doubts she’ll ever leave England. Their mum died when they were young and their father never really seemed to understand what being a parent meant. Arthur figures he was too heartbroken to ever let himself love them; they reminded him too much of their mother.

Merlin’s childhood was vastly different. He went to school down the road with all the other kids. They had a farmhouse, but the farm behind it had been sold way before he and his mum ever moved in. Her brother lived with them for most of Merlin’s childhood, but he’s such a free spirit he often flits in and out of Merlin’s life now. He misses his mum, but there was always a slight strain to things and Merlin is never sure why. She’s an open-minded person, but she found him a big strange and they never truly connected. Still, he does love her and miss her when he’s gone, but he only visits twice a year – once during the summer and once during Christmas. They both seem happy with this arrangement.

Still, it’s odd to think that growing up Arthur was only a couple hundred kilometers away. They never would have been friends, not way back when. They probably shouldn’t have been friends at university except they were both international students with academic scholarships. Cleverness came easily for both of them, although in different ways. Merlin didn’t care to work too hard and was happy with a bachelor’s degree. Arthur, on the other hand, was ready to earn his own way so he wouldn’t have to rely on his father and he pushed himself to get something that would enable him to have his own money.

After their plane lands and they gather their luggage, they part ways. This is the only time of year Merlin ever sees Arthur’s sister Morgana. She picks Arthur up and they drive off towards their mansion or whatever. It’s also the only time Arthur ever gets a glimpse of Merlin’s mum – if she makes the drive to the airport; sometimes she doesn’t. 

The time with his mum is nice, and the break from work is relaxing, but she keeps asking if he’s having girl problems because apparently he’s not as happy as he normally is. He tells her he’s having boy trouble and she laughs him off as though she doesn’t believe him so he doesn’t even try to convince her. He’s more than ready to get back home once the holiday is over and he ends up lying to his mum and telling her he has a morning flight when it’s really not for several more hours. He wants the chance to sit and relax and not talk to anyone about anything. He’ll have an eight hour flight home with someone who will surely want to talk; it’ll be nice to have some quiet before that.

He wanders around the airport for a while before making his way to the gate three hours early.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mumbles, stopping in his tracks.

Arthur is there, reading a book, facing the large window that looks to the runway outside. Arthur must not have heard him because he’s still focused on his book. Merlin slides quietly into the seat next to him and says, “I like to watch the planes take off.”

Arthur jumps, clearly surprised. “Why’re you so early?”

“Why’re you?”

Arthur closes his book around one of his fingers to mark the page. “My family was driving me mad.”

“Same.” Merlin sits back in the chair and sighs. “It was probably the worst holiday in a while. I was in a bad mood for nearly all of it.”

“As was I,” Arthur admits.

“We really need to figure out how to break up so we can go back to being mates.”

“Agreed,” Arthur says. 

“So how do we start?”

“Well maybe we had a big fight at Christmas? Spent the rest of the New Year apart?”

“What was the fight about?”

Arthur shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. We can tell everyone it’s none of their business. Maybe my family isn’t very accepting of you and I don’t stand up for you. But maybe you’re overly aggressive with them and you won’t back off.”

“I see, so we’re both a little bit at fault.”

“Yeah, I don’t want anyone at work thinking they need to take sides.”

“Makes sense,” Merlin says. “So, like, first day back at the office I can tell Freya how crappy our holiday was? She’s the biggest gossip in the firm.”

“We should let it fester a little bit, though. If we’ve been together over half a decade then it would probably be a slow demise.”

“Sure, so then let’s stop going to lunch every day. We’ll do it only a couple times a week. Make it a point to go with other people.”

“All right,” Arthur agrees. “And then the last two weeks before we break up, we don’t go to lunch at all.”

“We won’t announce it, though. Just the next time someone asks, we’ll say we’re not together anymore. And then if they look back on it, they’ll have picked up on the signs.”

“Perfect. We’re back to work tomorrow, which is” – Arthur looks at his watch – “January sixth, so let’s be done by the tenth of February. No one will be uncomfortable about our breakup and we can resume being friends at work surely by the end of February and I’ll still have my new job and you’ll still be top assistant.”

“Yes. Agreed.” Merlin smiles. “I feel so much better now.”

A look crosses Arthur’s eyes that Merlin can’t interpret. “Yeah,” he says, “me too.”

“I can’t believe that watch still works,” Merlin says. “It still tells the date and everything?”

“Still works as well as the day you gave it to me.”

“So what’re we going to do for the next three hours? Get super drunk?”

“There’s a bar around the corner.”

“Let’s do it.”

***

It’s dark out when the plane lands and Merlin is dead on his feet. Arthur takes his suitcase off the carousel at baggage claim and carries it outside for him. He offers to order him an Uber, but Merlin says, “So I’ve been thinking … if your offer still stands, I’ll stay in your spare room until the break up so I’m not spending so much money on taxis and Ubers every day.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah – I mean, I’d stay at my place on the weekends, but otherwise, you know, it makes financial sense.”

Arthur stares at him for a moment. Then with a little shake of his head says, “Yeah, no yeah, of course. Of course you’re welcome to the spare room. You want to come by tonight?”

“I mean, you do have laundry in your flat. I have to go to the basement to do mine at my place.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “That’s why you’re doing this, aren’t you? So you can con me into washing your dirty clothes? Do you even have clothes for the workweek in your bags?”

“I can make do until next Friday.”

“Uh, all right, then. Let’s go.”

It’s not the first time Merlin’s stayed in Arthur’s flat. There’s been a few times where they got drunk and Ubered back together. There was one where the upstairs flat had a massive leak into Merlin’s flat that took over a week to fix and he stayed with Arthur instead of a hotel. A few game nights that ended in Merlin passed out on the sofa and Gwen in the spare bedroom and Arthur on the floor halfway to his bedroom. 

The spare bedroom is really Arthur’s office, but he has a bed in there also. There’s already clean sheets under the blankets and the guest bath has a shower, so Merlin has everything he needs. Merlin always showers at night and Arthur in the morning so by the time Merlin is cleaned up, the door to Arthur’s room is closed and the light is turned off. Thankfully he’s tired enough that he falls asleep quickly, breathing in the familiar scent of Arthur’s detergent on the sheets.

The next morning Merlin is up and dressed before Arthur. He makes a pot of coffee and grabs to travel mugs for them. Arthur has two small Yetis that keep the coffee warm for hours and hours; Merlin takes the green one and leaves the blue for Arthur.

“You made coffee?”

Arthur walks into his kitchen while his hands work on tying his tie.

“Least I could do for letting me stay here after I was kind of an idiot.”

“You weren’t. I promise.” Arthur takes the blue cup and sips from it. “Ugh, perfect. Thank you. Ready to go?”

Arthur has to find gloves for Merlin but they’re soon in the parking garage for Arthur’s building and making their way to his BMW. The ride to work is surprisingly quick, but they’re not the first ones back in the office even though they’re early.

When they step off the elevator, Freya greets them both with hugs and squealing. Merlin rolls his eyes when it’s his turn, but he lets her walk with him towards his desk. He purposefully doesn’t say goodbye to Arthur.

“How was your holiday?”

“You look tan,” Merlin says instead.

“I went to Ibiza with my new boyfriend.”

“Ah. Nothing says Christmas like an island in the middle of the ocean.”

Freya tosses her hair and sits on the edge of Merlin’s desk. “How was your holiday?”

“Rotten.”

“Seriously?”

“Arthur’s dad doesn’t really like me. I think he’s the reason Arthur hasn’t wanted to get married yet.” Whoa, Merlin’s shocked himself. He doesn’t know where that idea came from, but it sounds good. He’s going with it.

“He cares that much about what his dad thinks?”

“A couple years ago he threatened to write Arthur out of the will if he stayed with me. I know Arthur loves me, but he’d lose out on millions, mind. We got into a fight about it on Christmas and I spent the rest of holiday with my mum. Yesterday on the flight home was the first time I saw him in a week.”

Freya blinks in disbelief. “But you two are so perfect together.”

Merlin shrugs. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I hope so. If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”

“Sure, thanks, Freya.”

As soon as Freya leaves, Merlin smirks to himself and picks up the phone to dial into Frederick’s voicemail. _One hundred and twenty-seven new messages_. Merlin grabs a pen and a new notebook. This is going to take a while.

***

By the time Thursday rolls around, Merlin has said no twiceto Arthur’s lunchtime invitation and told Audrey about their fight over Christmas. Apparently Audrey went straight to Arthur to demanded to know what was up and he had to do some damage control because their coworkers were starting to think he was the bad guy. Merlin doesn’t like pretending to be upset with Arthur, except it’s not as hard as it should be because maybe he actually _is_ a little upset with him. Feelings are weird.

Right before lunchtime, Arthur shoots Merlin a text, asking him to stop by his office. Merlin gets up and walks down the corridor, passing by all the offices the partners occupy. He knocks on the open door to let Arthur know he’s there. 

Frederick and Arthur are near the door, shaking hands as though brokering a deal. When Frederick turns to Merlin, he smiles widely. 

“Merlin, so good to see you.”

“You saw me an hour ago.”

Frederick laughs. “You’re so funny.”

“I just tell it like it is,” Merlin says. Frederick seems overly joyful for some reason. He claps Merlin on the shoulder as he leaves the office.

“Come in and shut the door,” Arthur says.

“Oh wow, you have your bossy BDSM voice.”

Arthur glares.

“What? You know you have that air about you when you get into super-important-lawyer-mode.”

“Merlin.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t joke around while we’re pending a break up?”

Arthur sits on the blue sofa and takes a deep breath. “Have you heard of a guy named Oliver Meriwether?”

Merlin flops down into one of the armchairs across from Arthur. “No. Should I?”

“He’s a football player. American football, not soccer.”

Merlin shrugs.

“He’s been all over the news lately.”

“I don’t pay attention to that kind of stuff.”

“He’s trending everywhere.”

“I haven’t really figured out how Twitter works yet,” Merlin admits.

Arthur takes a deep breath. “Whatever. Anyway, he was recently outed and doesn’t feel his representation handled it correctly so he’s looking for a new manager, new RP rep, and a new lawyer.”

“And he wants you.”

“Yes.”

“Because you’re gay.”

“He doesn’t know that. Not yet.”

“Have you represented any athletes before?” Merlin asks. Then he pauses. “You do contracts.”

“Yes.”

“So what does he want you to do?”

“Look over his current ones and see if he can get out of them. If he’s happy then there’s a strong chance he’d continue to use me for his representation. I had two other players at my old firm, but no one with such a high-profile.”

“Okay, well, this sounds great for you. Why don’t look you happy about it?”

Arthur hesitates. “I am. Thrilled at the prospect. However … Frederick thinks it’s a good idea to take him to lunch and let him know that since I’m gay I’d understand the importance of his situation.”

“Gross,” Merlin says. “I know you hate that – being the token gay man.”

“Normally, that’s true. This time I’m okay with it. To get a client like him? It’d be unbelievable.”

“I don’t like it, but if you’re okay with it then all right. He should choose you on your merits, not who you fuck. Where’re you taking him for lunch?”

“We,” Arthur corrects.

“We what?”

“Where are _we_ taking him for lunch?”

Merlin groans. “Why? You know I hate professional shit like this. That’s why I’m an assistant and not someone who has to wine and dine clients.”

“Frederick thinks you’re charming. He thinks you’d be an asset. So we need to cool it on the break up – until we have Oliver Meriwether on retainer.”

“You’re killing me here,” Merlin says with another groan. 

“You do realize this is all _your_ fault, right? If you’d let Freya down with the truth in the beginning we wouldn’t be doing this right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlin mumbles waving a dismissive hand. “Please tell me wherever we’re going will have prices on the menu?”

***

There weren’t any prices, but at whatever restaurant they were, it was clearly exclusive. Merlin is aware that Middleton & Associates is a decently high-profile firm, even if half their lawyers get drunk at a crappy British-themed bar on Friday nights. They don’t have a lot of famous clients, but they do have a lot of wealthy ones. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Arthur says in Merlin’s ear.

They’re at a small table in the corner, near a large window. Arthur orders Merlin an ice tea without lemon and even asks the server for a straw. Merlin looks over the menu; it all sounds fancy, but at least they have burgers here. 

When Oliver is directed to their table by the maître d, Merlin takes a deep breath and stands up with Arthur to greet him. They all shake hands before sitting back down. Merlin does not recognize this dude at all. He probably should have googled him on the way over. He doesn’t realize his knee is bouncing until Arthur places a hand on it as though silently telling him to calm down.

“I’m surprised Middleton isn’t here himself,” Oliver says.

“This is just a lunch,” Arthur says, “to help you feel more comfortable if you decide you want us to help you. Frederick and I thought you might be more comfortable talking to me.”

Oliver’s gaze flicks over to Merlin who is currently fidgeting with the napkin ring. “Who’re you?”

“Ah, I’m Merlin. I’m actually Frederick’s executive assistant.”

“Interesting choice to bring you here, especially if Frederick’s back at the office.”

“That’s what I said,” Merlin responds with an eye roll. “Personally, I’d rather be out for pizza, but the two of them talked me into coming and told me to be myself, so, you know, good luck.”

“He’s my partner,” Arthur clarifies. When Oliver doesn’t seem to understand, he reiterates, “In life. My boyfriend.”

“Ah, so Middleton wanted to bring out his gay poster child.” Oliver looks unimpressed.

“That wasn’t quite the purpose,” Arthur says.

“That’s what it feels like.” Oliver taps on the table and looks as though he’s going to stand back up.

“It’s gross, isn’t it?” Merlin says. He can already tell Oliver is annoyed by this, which, really, he should be. “I said the same thing. Look, I can tell you’ve had to deal with a lot of bullshit and you’re not here watch anyone put on a show for you. So let’s order – I’m getting a burger and chips – which is British for _fries_ because you Americans are dirty peasants – and cut the crap.”

Oliver doesn’t look convinced.

“We can talk about whatever you want. I’m assuming since your name is ‘trending’ that you don’t want to talk about yourself. Which, to be honest here, I had to ask him” – he points a thumb towards Arthur – “what that even meant. And ask who you were. I don’t keep up with sports, which I’m sure _shocks_ you.”

Oliver settles back in his chair. “Okay. I’ll give it a lunch. And you’re right, I don’t want to talk about me. So let’s talk about you. How long have you worked at Middleton?”

“Five years. Six?” Merlin shrugs.

“I’m guessing you like it?”

“Either that or I’m too lazy to get another job.”

Oliver laughs and the server comes back over to gather his drink order. As soon as he’s gone, Oliver’s demeanor changes. He folds his hands on top of the table and says, “Listen, my life has been turned completely upside down, both professionally and personally. I need people in my life I can trust. Let me know what makes you so sure you’d be a good fit for me.” Oliver stands. “I’m going to wash up and then I’ll be back.”

As soon as Oliver is out of earshot, Arthur says, “He likes your candor.”

“The ‘charming wit’ as you call it?”

“Whatever you want to call it. You have to loosen up though. Your body language – act like you’re my boyfriend for one meal. Please?”

Merlin shakes his head in disbelief. “He just said he needs people he can trust.”

“I’m not the one pretending to be gay, so that part’s not a lie for me. Frederick thinks if he understands that we are allowed to be out at work and fully supported by our coworkers then he thinks we have a better shot at having Oliver as a client. None of that is a lie. They _do_ support us, all of them. I’m actually quite surprised how many of them were upset when they’d heard we had a fight over holiday.”

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin says, scrunching his nose. “It’s like they ship us or something.”

Arthur blinks. “What? I don’t know what that means.”

“Nothing, never mind.” He clears his throat. “Fine. I get what you’re saying. The important parts aren’t a lie, the details in between are blurred a bit. I don’t like it, but I guess I’ll play along.”

“There isn’t a single person at Middleton who’s treated either of us differently for being a couple. Even Percy who looks like a linebacker – that’s a position in football—”

“I get the reference.” Merlin rolls his eyes.

“Fine – even Percy is supportive. They all are. That’s the kind of environment someone needs who has been outed against his will.”

Merlin sighs. “Okay,” he says. “I got you.”

“Thank you. Now act like you fancy me.”

“This is how I act when I fancy someone?”

Arthur laughs. “A complete mess? No wonder you’re single.”

By the time Oliver returns, their server has dropped off his drink. They order food and just as Oliver looks like he’s ready to demand some more answers, Arthur interrupts.

“I read that your parents didn’t know you were gay.”

Oliver looks mildly surprised, but he shakes his head. “They didn’t, not really. I think they suspected, but they always told me growing up that being gay was wrong, morally or whatever, so I never came out to them.”

“Coming out is deeply personal,” Arthur says. “Someone else told my father before I had the chance.”

Merlin’s ears pick up. He hasn’t heard this story before. It occurs to him that ever since the beginning of their friendship, Arthur was out. There wasn’t any sort of big declaration or divulging of secrets. It was a fact from the beginning.

“I went to boarding school in the countryside in England, a good distance away from home. I had a few different boyfriends. One of them had a girlfriend at our sister school. I guess he wasn’t so much my boyfriend, more like a bloke I fooled around with. Anyway, he tried to break up with his girlfriend and told her it was because of me. She was furious and told the headmaster that I was taking advantage of her boyfriend and then she mailed a letter to my father. I hadn’t come out to him yet.”

“That’s rough,” Oliver says.

“Wait a minute!” Merlin cries. “This is why you changed boarding schools mid-term, isn’t it? You’re such a liar, telling me it was to be closer to your sister.”

“It’s an embarrassing story,” Arthur says. “I was quite literally asked to leave for inappropriate behavior, which was code for our-students-aren’t-gay.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I appreciate your anger, but it’s been almost two decades. I’m over it.”

“Your father didn’t even try to fight it, did he?” Merlin asks. “I hate him so much.”

Arthur smiles, just a little, and shakes his head. “No, no, he didn’t. It was embarrassing for him. He had to come up with a reason why his son transferred schools in the middle of the year. It’s why he didn’t put up much of a fight when I left for America.” He turns back to Oliver. “I was out at school because I chose to be. I was not out at home or to my family. The point of my story was, I understand, on a basic level, what it feels like for someone to cheapen your own coming out story. You’re supposed to own that part of you. It’s unbelievable that we have to deal with things this way, but especially when you’re in certain professions, you have to deal with being gay very delicately.”

“It’s not delicate at work,” says Merlin. “For you – er, for us.”

Arthur smirks. “Of course it is. You don’t think that I try to keep this part of me to the sidelines? At my old firm no one knew. There’s nothing worse than when someone speaks about me to hear them say, ‘oh you mean the _gay_ attorney.’ I don’t want to be known for that.”

“But you’re out at Middleton.”

Something softens in Arthur’s eyes. “Right, because _you’re_ there.”

There’s this weird lump in Merlin’s throat and he tries to swallow it down. Oh shit. “You mean if … you know … if I hadn’t already told them we were together you wouldn’t have ever told them you were gay?”

“I wouldn’t have denied it, but I wouldn’t advertise it either. Not until I established myself for who I am so that that part of me doesn’t become what defines me.”

“Oh god, and I took that away from you,” says Merlin, horrified.

Arthur places a hand on his knee. “No, it’s fine. Everyone there is beyond supportive. It’s actually not been a big deal whatsoever. It would have been at my old firm.” Arthur looks back at Oliver. “Sorry, that derailed a little bit.”

“It’s fine. Do you still talk to your parents?” Oliver asks.

“My mum died when I was little and my father’s hosted a broken heart for the last twenty-five years. I go home every Christmas. It’s strained. My father doesn’t ask about my love life. I go back home to see my sister.”

“Being gay doesn’t bother you?”

Arthur looks surprised. “No, why would it? This is who I’m meant to be and Merlin’s the one I’m meant to be with. I can’t imagine sitting here with anyone else. Not just at this table, but at any table, life in general.”

“What about you?” Oliver asks, looking at Merlin. “Are you out to your parents?”

“I dunno my dad and my mum didn’t believe me when I told her I was having boy troubles.”

“When did you tell your mum that?” Arthur asks. 

“Over holiday when we had that fight. I tried to talk to her about it, but she thought I was pulling her leg.”

Arthur wears an odd expression that Merlin isn’t really sure he wants to interpret. His eyes roam over Merlin’s face as though studying him. Merlin reaches over and pushes some of Arthur’s fringe away from his eyes.

“Er, sorry,” says Merlin, a little surprised at himself. “Your hair sometimes covers your eyes and it’s nicer when people can see them.” He’s pretty sure that Arthur knows that when he said _people_ he meant _Merlin_.

Arthur breaks the tension by asking Oliver, “So you want to hear a really embarrassing story about Merlin?”

“Of course.”

“Wait, wait,” Merlin says. “What story? Why me? Tell a story about yourself for once.”

“All my hilarious stories are about you, sorry.”

He’s totally not sorry.

“So,” Arthur continues, “we went to the same university here, that’s how we met. And we took a lot of the same courses because we were both pre-law. Junior year we took an ethics class and we had to do this debate—”

“Oh, god,” interrupts Merlin, “please don’t. Get a new story.”

“No, it’s great, everyone loves it.”

“If you tell this story, you’re totally not getting blown tonight.”

Arthur chortles. “I wasn’t going to get blown anyway.”

***

Apparently Oliver found their relationship oddly refreshing and came back to the office with Arthur to talk about his old contract. Merlin goes back to his desk and finishes out his day. He keeps thinking about lunch, about how they didn’t really lie about anything. All their stories were true, how they met, their mad adventures together. Oliver told some of his own stories, about how once he was outed to the public his boyfriend left, not wanting the fame or attention. For some reason, Oliver found Merlin relaxing, which Merlin hears a lot – it must be that wit Arthur keeps talking about.

Things between Arthur and Merlin go back to the way they were before the holidays, driving to work together, going to lunch, going out with Gwen and Lance one night and some of their coworkers the next. It’s nice and Merlin feels himself loosen up, but every time Arthur touches him, the memory of that kiss starts to replay in his head. At home Arthur is different. There isn’t any touching or faking a relationship, except Merlin doesn’t go back to his flat on the weekends and Arthur doesn’t ask him to. They’re now roommates, which should probably freak Merlin out but doesn’t.

At the end of January, they’re invited out by Audrey to King George’s, Arthur declines. That same afternoon, Gwen texts them in the group chat about meeting up at their usual pub, and again, Arthur declines. Merlin wonders what’s up, they usually go out on at least one weekend night a week, but Arthur says he’s not really in the mood.

Merlin orders pizza for dinner and turns on a movie, but Arthur is fairly engrossed on his mobile. 

“What’re you doing over there?” Merlin asks.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, nothing.”

Merlin doesn’t believe him. Arthur gets up off the sofa and disappears into his room. When he comes back out, he’s wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt. He sits back down on the sofa to lace his boots and says, “I’m going out for a bit.”

“Wait a second.” Merlin pauses the movie. “Were you on Grindr?”

“I’m just going out. I’ll be back later.”

“Uh huh. Are you going to bring someone back here?”

Arthur stands up and goes to get his coat. “I hadn’t thought about it. I guess that might be weird, yeah?”

“What if someone from work sees you? They’ll think you’re cheating on me.”

“You can go out too, if you want. I’m not going to stop you from finding a girl to hook up with.”

Merlin doesn’t know what to say. It’s not his place to tell Arthur he can’t go and hook-up with someone. They’re not a real couple. He doesn’t even know why his stomach is feeling so knotted up. He thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“Being in a fake relationship with you is nice and all, but sometimes I want to get laid …” Arthur clears his throat. “If I see someone from work, I promise I’ll leave the bar alone, okay? I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Merlin nods. “Right.” He stares at Arthur and then says, “You gelled your hair to the side. I can see your eyes.”

Arthur makes a weird noise and then clears his throat again. “Er, yeah. I like that you like my hair this way so...”

Merlin wants to scream. There’s a long string of silence. “If you want to bring someone back, text me,” he finally says, “and I’ll clear out. Stay in my room.”

Arthur flinches slightly, but nods. “Mm hmm. Okay, thanks.”

They stare at each other for a moment, more silence between them. Merlin is the first one to break the eye contact. He picks up the remote and starts the movie again.

“He better be fit,” he says, “so he can fuck you properly and loosen you up. You’re kinda tense tonight.” He purposefully keeps his eyes on the television as Arthur leaves. He tries not to think about the weird feeling in his chest, like someone is ripping his heart out of his ribcage.

***

A couple weeks later, hookup forgotten (or at least very much ignored), they’re in Arthur’s office. Merlin’s done for the afternoon but Arthur has a few things to finish up. This is Merlin’s favorite time of day. Arthur will undo his tie and take off his jacket. Sometimes they toss one of Arthur’s stress balls back and forth while Arthur brainstorms things out loud. It’s relaxed and Merlin doesn’t have to dash back to his desk to answer the phone or email. It feels normal and right.

“All right,” says Arthur. “So now we have Oliver on retainer. I’m guessing you want to go back to slowly breaking up?”

“When’d he sign on?”

“A while ago,” Arthur admits. “I forgot to tell you.”

“I see. Well, then … yeah. We should break up. I mean, if that’s what you want to do, too.”

“Probably should, I guess.”

Merlin agrees. “Right. So, same deal as last time?”

Before Arthur can answer, there’s a knock at his office door. Frederick opens it immediately and stands in the doorway. “Hello, gentlemen,” he says. “I have great news.”

“Go on.”

“You’re due for some continuing education courses. There’s a seminar in April that had an opening. The others have been signed up for months so luckily you can all go together. It’s at a hotel right on the beach, so you’ll have to make the drive, but I’m sure you won’t mind four days on the ocean.”

“Never,” Arthur says.

“I’ll miss you,” Merlin mumbles, “while you’re getting a tan and I’m stuck here answering phones.”

“You think I’m a monster?” Frederick laughs. “You’re going, too.”

“Wait, what?” Merlin cringes internally. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”

“The firm is paying for the course and the hotel. Relax and have fun.”

“I couldn’t ask—”

“You’re not taking the course and the room will be booked regardless if you go,” Frederick says. “Arthur’s attending either way. So why waste a vacation? You never take time off, so I’m gifting it to you. You deserve it.”

Merlin has no idea how to respond. This is crazy. He can’t go on a beach holiday with Arthur. 

“Say thank you, Merlin,” Arthur prompts.

“Thank you, Merlin,” he mumbles.

Frederick laughs and shakes his head and leaves Arthur’s office.

After a long pause, Arthur says, “So, I guess we break up after the beach? I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of you getting a tan.”

“I’ve always wanted to drink pina coladas in the sand.”

***

“So why the hell haven’t you guys broken up?” Gwen asks later that night at the pub.

For a moment, neither of them answer.

“It’s helping my career,” Arthur admits, “which is a little bit shameful, but …” He shrugs. “It’s helping Merlin too. After we signed on this big-deal client, Merlin got a raise.”

“Did you really?”

Merlin shrugs. “Maybe. I’m also getting a free trip to the beach,” he says. “I have to share a room with him, but I haven’t been to the beach in years.”

“When’s the trip?”

“April,” Merlin answers.

Gwen and Lance exchange a glance that Merlin ignores. They seem to be ignoring the fact that April is over an entire month away from now.

“Well what about when you meet someone you actually do want to date?” Gwen asks.

“It hasn’t come up yet,” Arthur replies.

“Oh, whatever,” says Merlin while he rolls his eyes, “you’re on Grindr every night.”

“I’m not on Grindr _every night_.”

Merlin snorts.

“If I met someone I wanted to date more than Merlin, then we’d deal with that. But as it is, I haven’t, regardless of anyone I have or haven’t hooked up with.”

“What about you?” Gwen asks Merlin.

“Same. I haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while though. Maybe I should download a hookup app myself.”

“You don’t want to do that,” Gwen says.

“Yeah? Why not?” Merlin challenges.

“You’re not the kind of guy who sleeps with someone and then doesn’t return their calls.”

“But I am?” Arthur asks.

“Yes,” Merlin, Gwen, and Lance say all at the same time.

“Is that really what you think of me?”

Gwen reaches across the table and takes hold of Arthur’s hand. “Sweetie, no offense, but since I’ve known you, you’ve had exactly two boyfriends, but you hook up with someone at least two or three times a month. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Arthur doesn’t. 

“I’m not ashamed of it. It’s not as though it’s a different bloke every night. I like getting laid. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I like getting laid, too,” Merlin says, “but I can still count the number of people I’ve slept with on two hands.” He pauses, counting in his head. “And only one shoe off. It’s not as fun when it’s just one night. You don’t get to do any of the really good stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” Gwen asks with a sly grin. “Like what?”

“Like the weird shit. The stuff you don’t do with casual hookups because you’re too embarrassed to ask for it.”

Arthur looks suddenly much more interested in the conversation. “Yeah? And what weird shit are you too embarrassed to ask for?”

“I’m not telling you that!”

Gwen grins a little evilly. “We’ll all get it out of you one day.”

On the ride home from the pub, Merlin’s phone vibrates. He opens it up and sighs. He glances at Arthur to make sure he’s not paying him any attention before he responds.

> **Gwen:** _WTF?_
> 
> **Gwen:** _I know you can’t be happy with this stupid arrangement. Is he really hooking up with other guys?_
> 
> **Merlin:** _I’m not his real bf. It’s fine. Chill._
> 
> **Gwen:** _I saw that look on your face when you mentioned grindr. I’ve seen that look before! You’re into him._

Okay, there’s two ways to play this. He can either deny it completely or admit that she’s a little bit right and he’s now officially in over his head.

> **Gwen:** _I can hear you thinking all the way across town!_
> 
> **Gwen:** _Are you going to tell him? Don’t you dare even try to deny you aren’t totally into him._
> 
> **Merlin:** _I’m not going to tell him. He doesn’t feel the same._
> 
> **Gwen:** _Bullshit_
> 
> **Gwen:** _Omfg so much bullshit with that_
> 
> **Gwen:** _Please tell him._
> 
> **Merlin:** _I’ll take it under advisement._
> 
> **Gwen:** _I hope you know I just screamed so loud I woke up my neighbor’s baby._

***

The beach is beautiful. The coastline isn’t far from his mum’s farmhouse so he sometimes goes when he’s back home for a visit, but he hasn’t been to a beach like this in years. It’s too cold to swim, but with jeans and a jumper, it’s not too cold to go read in front of the water. The continuing ed classes are all-day Thursday and Friday, but Saturday everyone is free. The class time gives Merlin the chance to go around to the local shops and eat his weight in ice cream and fudge and browse the knickknacks for sale. He’s sure Arthur would’ve come with him, but it’s nice to have this escape on his own. Everyone from the firm goes out to dinner each night and then they end up at the hotel bar. Merlin genuinely likes most of his coworkers and he kind of wishes he hadn’t used Arthur as an excuse not to hang out with them for so long.

On Saturday, Arthur ends up wanting to explore the town after all, so Merlin takes him back to the places he liked best. He’s surprised when Arthur wants to buy him a block of peanut butter fudge, but Arthur knows sweets are one of his weaknesses. On their last night, they all meet at the fanciest restaurant in the hotel, a table for fifteen. Merlin sits on the end next to Arthur and across from Audrey, Percy, and Elyan. None of those guys could ever replace Gwen and Lance, but he assumes sometime soon they’re going to want to get married or have a baby and be less accessible, so it might be nice to have a back-up option for best friends in a pinch.

The table orders several bottles of wine – Arthur picks the kind from the very first dinner with Frederick because he knows Merlin likes it – and one of every appetizer on the menu. Merlin doesn’t know what to eat so he tells Arthur to just order for him.

“Do you always do that?” Audrey asks. “You do it when we go to King George’s. Order for him.”

“Er, do I?” Arthur asks.

Merlin shrugs. “When we go to fancy restaurants that don’t have straws or kids’ menus, yeah.”

“He’s picky,” Arthur explains. “He eats like a teenager. It’s all pizza and hamburgers and spaghetti. He doesn’t know what to order at places like this.”

“I’m glad you guys aren’t fighting anymore,” she says. “You’re my favorite couple.”

Merlin downs his glass of wine and lets Arthur fill it up again. 

“Doesn’t it get boring?” Percy asks. “Being with the same person over and over again?”

“Not if you keep it interesting,” Arthur says. He takes a sip of his wine. “That’s the nice thing about being with the same person – you get to know them. And then when you’re really comfortable, you get to try the weird shit.”

Merlin almost chokes on his wine. That verbiage is awfully familiar …

“What’s the weird shit?” Audrey asks eagerly.

“We’re not telling you that,” says Merlin. To Arthur, he snaps, “What’s wrong with you?”

Arthur laughs and winks at him.

“You can do ‘weird shit’ with one night stands,” Percy argues.

“I disagree. When you have that trust in someone, you know they’re not going to push you too hard and you know how hard to push them. You try new things together and come to compromises if one person likes something the other doesn’t. And sometimes you even get to discover there’s things you fancy that you didn’t even realize.”

Percy looks skeptical.

“What’s the weirdest shit you’ve ever done?” Arthur challenges.

Oh boy, Merlin thinks, it’s starting to get a little hot in here. He drinks more wine.

“I let a girl handcuff me to the headboard once.”

Arthur tops off Merlin’s glass and then his own. “Child’s play.”

“Fine. What’s the weirdest shit you’ve ever done?” Percy dares.

“Don’t,” says Merlin. He has no idea what Arthur is going to say, but he’s sure he’d be the one to end up in the furry suit if Arthur’s trying to find something that will shock their coworkers.

“What about something tame?” Arthur asks. He puts an arm around the back of Merlin’s chair and it’s so familiar Merlin doesn’t even notice it. He traces the collar of Merlin’s shirt with his fingertips, the simple touch asking permission. 

“So long as it’s nothing embarrassing.” Merlin knows he’s going to regret this.

“Well, you know relationships sometimes start all hot and heavy,” Arthur says to Percy, but he’s still looking at Merlin. “You do it all the time, but it’s pretty normal stuff. For you lot, straight people, it’s pretty straightforward most of the time, but for guys like us, sometimes it’s not as black and white. You have to find out who wants to top and maybe it’s not the same every time, so there’s a lot of communication from the beginning of what you like and don’t like.”

“Makes sense,” says Audrey, a little breathless as though she’s about to read an intimate scene in a dirty romance novel. By the questions she asks them sometimes, Merlin wouldn’t be surprised if she wrote fanfiction about them.

“And then when you’re in a profession where you have to be domineering and assertive, sometimes you forget to turn your work persona off when you get home. Or, if you work in the same office, sometimes your partner gets caught in the crosshairs.”

Arthur lightly tugs on Merlin’s earlobe. Merlin’s breath is a little heavier than normal. And it’s definitely hot in here.

“So they didn’t know they liked it and you didn’t know you liked doing it until one day you’re telling him to shut his pretty little mouth and hand you that file and when he does, you notice little beads of sweat right at his temple.”

Audrey whimpers.

“Then you tell him what he can do with that mouth, but first you make him beg to do it in that bossy courtroom voice. And then you tell him how good he’s doing and how beautiful he looks while doing it.”

Merlin’s having a heatstroke, that’s the only explanation for how hot his blood feels right now coursing through his veins. He stares at Arthur’s mouth and then tears his eyes away, picks up his glass and downs his wine again.

“Did I get it right?” Arthur asks in Merlin’s ear, too low for the others to hear. “That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Merlin makes a strangled noise.

“So that’s what gets Merlin off,” Audrey says, “which is so fucking hot. Dirty talk and being bossed around? But what about you, Arthur?”

“He gets off on doing whatever makes me happy,” Merlin says quickly. 

Percy scoffs at this.

“What? Not in needy, pathetic way,” Merlin argues. “He changed his hair style for me even though I didn’t ask. And he either makes my coffee every morning or buys me Starbucks. It’s like his way of taking care of me; he’ll do whatever I want. Quite literally.”

“It’s true,” Arthur confirms.

“He’s also quite literally the perfect boyfriend.”

“Also true,” Arthur agrees with a smirk and orders another bottle of wine when their server comes back around. “And you are, too. Which is why we’ve never broken up.”

After dinner, they go back to their hotel room, both of them far too drunk to have a coherent conversation, and flop into bed still mostly dressed. It doesn’t occur to Merlin until the drive home the next day that he called Arthur the perfect boyfriend and Arthur agreed.

“So last night,” Merlin begins.

“Is this about what I said at the table?”

“Yeah, but not the sex stuff, I don’t care about that. It’s the part about why we’ve never broken up.”

“Ah,” says Arthur. He pushes his sunglasses up on his head and glances back and forth between Merlin and the road. “I mean, I’m not wrong. It’s so much easier having you as a boyfriend. I meant what I said as well, that you’re the perfect boyfriend. You give me the companionship and friendship I need. You give my life the completion it needs. It’s nice. And I forgot how nice it was to live with someone.”

“Yeah, sure,” scoffs Merlin, “I’m going to remember you said that the next time you yell at me for not washing the dishes or leaving my towel on the floor.”

“There’s a towel rack. That’s where wet towels go!” Arthur laughs and puts his sunglasses back on. 

“Whatever. Anyway. I mean, I like it all too. But boyfriends have sex. That’s like what defines a boyfriend from a boy who happens to be a friend. Right?”

“Uh huh. What’re you saying, Merlin?”

Merlin’s skin is on fire. “I’m just pointing it out is all. That we can’t actually be, you know, real boyfriends because of that.”

Arthur is quiet. Merlin has no idea which way this conversation is going to turn. His stomach clinches and his palms are sweaty.

“You’re straight,” Arthur says, “and I know that. So when I said all that other stuff, I didn’t mean it to make you uncomfortable or to make you think I want to sleep with you.”

Merlin’s stomach plummets. “Right, of course. Yeah, I was just making sure.”

“Cool,” says Arthur. “Great.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Mm hmm. Me too.”

Merlin puts his seat back a little. He closes his eyes and pretends to take a nap. He doesn’t think he can keep talking to Arthur without either outing his secret or bursting into tears.

***

They get home from their mini holiday and already the flat feels different. Arthur seems more distant than he’s ever been and Merlin just knows it’s because Arthur read between the lines in the car and now knows he wants him. Arthur makes him a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner and they sit down to watch Netflix, but Arthur is on his phone.

“This is one of your favorite movies,” Merlin says. “What’s so interesting on your mobile?”

“Sorry,” Arthur says. He turns the screen off and looks back at the television, but Merlin can hear his phone vibrating. 

“Are you on that hookup app again?”

Arthur winces as though the question physically hurts.

“Wow,” says Merlin. He turns the movie off and stands up. He paces and tries to create a coherent thought. His insides feel bigger than this body, like he’s going to explode or combust and his own skin doesn’t feel right. “This is how it’ll always be, won’t it? We’ll have a nice time and you’ll leave to go pull some bloke at a club somewhere.”

Arthur stands up too and throws his hands up in the air. “What do you want from me?” he demands. “We already established that we’ve got a great relationship, but there’s no room for sex and I’m not going to be celibate my whole life. I don’t expect that from you either.”

Merlin flinches. It couldn’t have hurt any worse if Arthur had slapped him. “Right, yeah, of course. I think we’ve just been faking it too long. We’re in a weird place.”

Arthur’s phone vibrates as though someone is calling him.

“You better get that,” Merlin says quietly. “Don’t forget condoms.”

Arthur looks angry, but he answers the phone, grabs his keys and slams the door behind him.

For the first hour Merlin paces back and forth in the flat. He considers grabbing his things and taking an Uber back to his own place. That would be the best thing to do. Except he’d have to Uber right on back tomorrow so they can go to work. He considers calling Gwen, but he’s sure she’d take his side and tell him how shitty Arthur is and he doesn’t really want that either. He doesn’t think Arthur is shit, he actually thinks he’s been completely fair. He’s never led him on, never lied to him. Merlin shouldn’t punish him for the feelings he’s having. He had no idea having a fake boyfriend would end in real heartache.

Arthur comes back an hour or so later. Merlin’s already in bed, with a book that he’s not really reading, and he barely hears the knock at his bedroom door.

“That was fast,” Merlin says.

“I couldn’t do it,” Arthur says. “I kept thinking about the look on your face when I was leaving. Merlin, I felt like I was hurting you, which is mad, isn’t it? Tell me it’s mad. Tell me this relationship we have isn’t real.”

“Don’t,” Merlin says. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. It’s obviously time we fake break up. Clearly the relationship isn’t working for us anymore. Hopefully in a few weeks we can go back to normal. I can stay at my flat again and we’ll go to lunch and to the bar and each download our own hookup apps and things will be like they used to be.”

Arthur nods. “Right. Yeah.” He almost looks sad – _almost_. Merlin doesn’t want to translate Arthur’s expression so he looks away. “Well, then, goodnight, Merlin.”

Merlin doesn’t say anything. He watches Arthur leave his room and close the door behind him. Fuck, he is pretty sure this is exactly what a broken heart feels like.

***

Work sucks.

They drive in together, in silence. They eat lunch separately. They don’t pass in the corridors, Merlin doesn’t pop into Arthur’s office, Arthur doesn’t stop by Merlin’s desk. It’s cold. At home it’s marginally better, but Merlin goes to bed at eight every night, even though all he does is toss and turn in bed and internally scream at how fucked up his life suddenly is.

On Tuesday he brings Frederick the wrong files for the client he’s seeing. On Wednesday he places two clients on hold and completely forgets about them and then gives Frederick the wrong address to a restaurant for lunch with another attorney. On Thursday he spills his coffee all over a stack of paperwork needing to be signed and when he tries to print more copies, he somehow jams the copier so badly they have to call a repairman. He’s never been so bad at his job in his life.

On Friday, Frederick calls Merlin into his office.

“Take a seat,” he says. Merlin obeys. “What’s going on with you?”

Merlin shrugs. “What d’you mean?”

“Cut the crap, Merlin. In six years you’ve never been like this.”

“Just a rough patch. Next week I’ll be fine.” He hopes he’s telling the truth.

“What rough patch? What’s going on?”

Merlin shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything.

“Merlin.” Frederick says his name as though it’s a command.

And then Merlin does something he’s never allowed himself to do yet. He bursts into tears. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I think I need to go home early, pull myself together, and then on Monday I’ll be fine. I promise. Shit.” He wipes at his eyes and sniffles.

“Merlin,” Frederick says again, the time much softer.

“Arthur’s leaving me,” Merlin says and for once, talking about their relationship sounds like the truth. 

“He’s _what_? Stand up. Come with me.”

Reluctantly, Merlin stands and follows Frederick out of his office and down the corridor. As soon as they round the corner, he knows Frederick is going to Artur’s office. Merlin groans. This is the last place he wants to be right now. He rubs at his eyes, hoping to get rid of all the evidence he’d been upset.

Frederick barges into Arthur’s office without so much as a knock. Merlin hangs out by the door, wanting a quick escape.

“Uh, hello,” Arthur says, looking back and forth between them. “Do come in, I think?” He’s sitting at his desk and Merlin looks all around his office, anywhere but at him.

“Fix this. Whatever is going on, fix it. Merlin is making mistakes and you – you missed a meeting with a client. I don’t care whose fault it is. I don’t care about any of the details. You’ve been together for seven years, right? Fix. It. Now.” Frederick turns back to Merlin. “I don’t want to see you back at your desk unless it’s to collect your things to go home. Take the rest of the day off, both of you. No more mistakes and no more bullshit. I thought you two could work together, but if breaking up is going to make both of you into idiots at your jobs, one of you will have to go and I don’t want to make that decision.”

Merlin glances at Arthur who looks utterly stunned.

“I don’t like being the bad guy. I liked you both better when you were happy. Fix it. Have a great weekend, fellas.”

Frederick pushes past Merlin and and exits Arthur’s office.

“Shut the door,” Arthur says. “No, I mean – come in but shut the door behind you.”

“Oh.” Merlin does.

Arthur stands and crosses his office and stands in front of Merlin. He curls a finger under Merlin’s chin and tilts his head up. “Were you crying?”

“No,” Merlin lies, pulling away from Arthur. 

“Jesus, what’s wrong?”

Merlin considers lying, considers telling him he’s just being stupid, but suddenly he can’t do it. He physically cannot lie anymore. He rolls his head, stretching his neck, and then looks up at the ceiling. “I might be bi and haven’t told you.”

Arthur is quiet for what seems like ten minutes, but is probably closer to one. “You’re bi?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Since always, I’d assume. Aware enough to know I had attraction to men … for a long-ass time … years … self-aware enough to label myself? Not as long.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Merlin flinches. “Why?”

“You said I was the perfect boyfriend, but we couldn’t be together because of the sex.”

“I was pointing out that we weren’t having any, not that we _couldn’t_.”

“I thought you were straight! How the hell was I supposed to know that?”

“I was totally turned on by a kiss. What straight man gets turned on by kissing another bloke?”

“You were having a crisis about it,” Arthur cries.

“Because it was _you_ , you idiot, not because I thought I was suddenly gay.”

“Again, how the hell was I supposed to know that?”

“I gave you plenty of chances to tell me how you felt. If you were into me, I thought you would’ve said.”

Arthur tenses at this and Merlin’s pulse quickens even more, if that’s even possible, because fuck it, he’s clearly said something wrong. Then there’s a change, like something inside Arthur is melting, and his limbs loosen and his expression softens.

“You really don’t know, do you?” He takes a step backwards and sinks down into the sofa. He puts his head in his hands. Merlin thinks he says something, but his words are mumbled against his palms.

“What was that?”

Arthur pulls his hands away from his face and peers up at Merlin. His eyes look tragic. “Why are you telling me you’re bi?”

Merlin hesitates.

“Because if it’s not to stop this fake relationship shit and do something for real, I don’t know if my heart can take it. So I need you to be very clear on what you’re actually trying to tell me here.”

Merlin swallows. “I don’t want to break up.”

Arthur blinks.

“I want to stay in your flat and drive to work with you every day and I know I could do that if we were just friends, but I also sometimes feel like if I don’t kiss you again I might die.”

“That’s slightly melodramatic.”

“Is it, though? Tell me you don’t feel the same,” Merlin challenges, feeling emboldened, “I dare you.”

“Merlin,” Arthur says firmly, “I’ve always felt the same.”

“Since when?”

“Always,” he repeats, his voice a little lower.

Merlin freezes in place. Suddenly so many of Arthur’s words over the last few months are coming back to him.

> _“That’s when I knew,” Arthur had said, his voice a little softer, “that I couldn’t ever get rid of him. He always makes me laugh.”_
> 
> _“And good on you for making other people realize how amazing you are. Now maybe you’ll finally believe it when I tell you.”_
> 
> _“This is who I’m meant to be and Merlin’s the one I’m meant to be with. I can’t imagine sitting here with anyone else. Not just at this table, but at any table, life in general.”_
> 
> _“He’s also quite literally the perfect boyfriend,” Merlin said._
> 
> _“Also true,” Arthur agreed, “And you are, too. It’s why we’ve never broken up.”_

“Oh my god,” Merlin says. “Always as in … _always_ always. Like since university?”

Arthur shrugs.

“If you don’t come here and kiss me like you did at Christmas, I think my body might actually fucking combust.”

Arthur makes a sound that’s halfway between a laugh and a cry, but he stands back up, crosses the room, and then suddenly he’s there, pressing his mouth against Merlin’s. One of his hands is on Merlin’s hip, the other tangled in his hair. Nothing has ever in his entire thirty-two years felt this immense, this good. He lightly tugs on Arthur’s lower lip with his teeth and then pulls back.

“We’re going to get sacked. Half my office is made of windows.” Arthur nods towards his office door which is nestled in the middle of a wall of glass. “Someone will see.”

“It’s just a bit of snogging.”

“I’ve already undone the top two buttons of your shirt and you haven’t even noticed.”

Merlin looks down. “Huh. I didn’t realize.” He glances back up at Arthur and then blushes. “I guess I was caught up in the moment.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t get awkward on me just because we kissed again. I’m not going to allow it.” 

Merlin laughs. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Arthur crowds a little closer. “I’ve quite literally been playing this moment out in my head for ten years. If you think this scenario doesn’t end with all your buttons undone and you writhing underneath me in bed, you have another think coming.”

“Oh shit,” Merlin whispers.

“Quite,” Arthur agrees. “So there’s no room for awkward.”

Merlin swallows and then nods.

“You need to stop at your desk before I take you home?”

Merlin shakes his head. “No.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

***

When Merlin wakes up the next morning he feels completely boneless. He stretches and rubs his face before turning over and—

Oh god. There’s an Arthur-shaped lump under the sheets next to him. His heart jumps into his throat and he slowly turns back so he can face the other direction and get control of himself. Everything that happened the night before comes back to him in pieces. The car ride from the office to Arthur’s flat is a blur. He isn’t sure what they even talked about, but he remembers the traffic was backed up for miles and Arthur took different roads trying to get home quicker, but ultimately it took twice as long. The elevator ride had other passengers (rude), so it was spent with Arthur massaging his palm and kissing the back of his hand. But once they were in the flat, Arthur kicked the door closed behind them and pushed Merlin up against the wall.

“Stop being awkward,” Arthur mumbles into a pillow or blanket, effectively ripping Merlin out of his thoughts.

A hand sneaks across the bed and takes hold of Merlin’s hip. Then Arthur is pressed against him, his hands splayed across Merlin’s stomach and lips against his shoulder blades.

“’m not awkward,” Merlin says, but even he knows he doesn’t sound convincing.

“I don’t regret it,” Arthur says softly. There’s the tiniest waver, the smallest shake in the words. “Even if it never happens again, I’m glad we had last night.”

Oh, god, Arthur is breaking his heart right now.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin begins.

Arthur immediately tenses and Merlin quickly turns over and leans up on one elbow to look down at him. 

“No, no,” he backtracks. “I didn’t finish my thought.”

“Okay,” Arthur replies slowly. “So then why are you sorry?”

“I feel like I probably hurt you a bunch over the last decade. You know, because I didn’t know. Like, the times you watched me date other people…”

Arthur swallows. “It’s not as though I sat at home completely celibate. It’s all right.”

“All those times you were hinting to me over the years about how you felt and I was completely deaf to it. I feel like I probably broke your heart over and over.”

“No, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Bullshit. Last weekend in the car when we both thought we were saying we didn’t want this to be for real… you mean to tell me it didn’t break you?”

Arthur’s cheeks turn a little pink. “I may or may not have had a difficult time with basic human functions this week.” 

Merlin eyes roam over him. His eyes, his lips, the dip of his collarbone. It feels almost normal, even if he can’t believe they’re actually here. 

“Was it really the debate?” Merlin asks. “When you knew?”

“Hmm,” Arthur considers, “yes and no. At the time, no, but when I sat back and thought about when it all began, yes.” He clears his throat. “What about you?”

“Arthur, I—”

“It’s okay if it’s recent,” he interrupts and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to pretend anything different.”

Merlin scrunches up his face and feels himself blush. “Oh god,” he says. He flops down on to his back and looks up at the ceiling. “This is so fucking embarrassing. When I first lied to Freya, I didn’t really think much of it, but then I started to, like, twist everything we did to make us sound like a couple and … I liked it. I liked the way it sounded.” Merlin sighs. “It feels rather pathetic now that I say it all out loud.”

Arthur is quiet. Then he moves slowly over Merlin. He takes his hands and pins them above his head, putting just enough pressure to hold him in place, but not so much Merlin can’t break free. He hovers for a moment before lowering his body down over Merlin’s and pressing their mouths together.

“Now it won’t be a lie,” he whispers against Merlin’s lips.

“She’ll figure it out,” Merlin says and then groans as Arthur nips at his neck. “She’ll be able to tell something’s different.”

“Uh huh.” Arthur lets go of Merlin’s wrists and moves down his body. 

“I’m ser – oh god – I’m serious.”

“Merlin,” Arthur says, “do shut up.” He disappears under the blankets.

***

Merlin takes a shower later that morning and keeps replaying one moment last night over and over in his head. After Arthur had kicked the front door shut, they were kissing, all tongues and spit, with hands everywhere. Arthur pushed Merlin’s button-down shirt off his shoulders and down until it fell to the floor. Then his fingers were at Merlin’s trousers, undoing them. The sound of the zipper broke Merlin out of his haze. 

Everything felt enormous. A million new emotions spread across Merlin’s chest, expanding it, setting him on fire. He was lightheaded, he was overcome. Part of him wanted everything to go in slow motion so he could savor it, but the other part of him didn’t think he’d live through the night if he didn’t get his hands all over Arthur _right now_. But then the smallest part of him, which might not have been all that small after all, worried that this was the absolute worst idea he’d ever had.

“Where’d you go?” Arthur asked.

“I’m right here.”

“You tensed up.”

Merlin opened his mouth to respond but then closed it. He didn’t know what to say.

“Are you all right?”

Merlin shakes his head. “No, I – I’m, well. I’m a little nervous.”

“Because I’m your best mate or because I’m a man?”

“Yes.” Merlin pauses. “To both.”

Arthur ghosted his hand over the front of Merlin’s trousers and then put both hands on Merlin’s hips. “How about I tell you what I want to do to you tonight, ease your mind?”

Merlin considered it, but shook his head. “Then there’s no surprise. That’s half the fun.”

“All right …how about I tell you what I _won’t_ do tonight, so you won’t have to worry?”

Well, that sounded like it could be okay. Merlin nodded.

“What if I took sex off the table?”

Merlin blinked.

Arthur crowded more into his space. “I’d rather map out every inch of you with my hands and mouth. Find out where you’re most sensitive, what’ll make you squirm and moan.”

Merlin swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can do the same to me, if you want. But you don’t have to.”

Something shifted in Arthur’s eyes right then; he went from being so physical to being serious.

“I want this to be fun for you.”

And then Merlin’s heart twisted almost painfully. He knew right then that Arthur was worried that after tonight, Merlin would end up being weirded out that he was a man and he wouldn’t want to offer him anything. Merlin didn’t know how he knew, but he did. He wanted to assure Arthur, wanted him to know that nothing could turn him away.

Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his and pushed away from the door. He led them to Arthur’s room, but stopped right before he reached the bed and began to undo the buttons on Arthur’s trousers.

“It’s my turn first.”

Arthur looked intrigued.

“You know what being with a bloke is like, I don’t. It seems only fair that I get to try it out first.” He pushes Arthur’s shirt off his shoulders and his trousers off his hips. “That’s better. Clothes are a travesty.” He pulls on the waistband of Arthur’s boxer briefs. He closes the gap between them and says against Arthur’s mouth, “These are next.”

They tangled together and fell back onto the bed, all mouths and hands. Somewhere in the mix of limbs, Merlin managed to get rid of the rest of his clothes and every part of him touched every part of Arthur. He kissed him everywhere and who knew that kissing the back of someone’s knee could be so glorious, but it was. All of it was. And when he took hold of Arthur and finally – _finally_ – made him come undone, he kissed him through it.

But none of that compared to the look Arthur gave him after, once he’d come back down, when he opened his eyes and cupped Merlin’s cheek in his hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got caught somewhere and instead of saying anything, the side of his mouth twitched up in an almost smile. Merlin can’t get the expression on Arthur’s face out of his head. Even now, in the shower, he keeps going back to that _look_. He knows what Arthur wanted to say, knows that he probably was afraid it was too soon for Merlin. And maybe it is. Maybe Merlin still has a little bit to figure out, but he knows no one has ever looked at him like that before.

Merlin turns the water off and gets out. He dries off and goes to the second bedroom where all his stuff is and gets dressed. When he walks into the main room, Arthur is flipping through some files at the dining table, all put together and ready to go. He smiles when he looks up.

“You’ve got to stop smiling at me,” Merlin says. “You’ll give us away in ten seconds if Gwen sees that look on your face.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but she’s been telling me for ages to tell you how I felt and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right. Which is why I need you to stop looking at me like you want to swallow me down.”

“I’d never dream of doing such a thing.”

Merlin narrows his eyes. “Whatever. Are you ready to go?”

***

At the pub they sit in a booth, Gwen and Lance on one side, Merlin and Arthur on the other. They order a round of beer and a cider for Merlin. Arthur orders Merlin’s lunch, which by now must be such commonplace that no one comments.

“We haven’t seen you since the beach,” Gwen says. “How was it?”

“It was fine,” replies Merlin. “Did you know they served octopus at the hotel bar?” He shivers. “Gross. Anything new with you guys?”

“We’re gonna buy a house,” Lance says. “One of my clients is selling his mom’s place. A townhouse in the middle of the city. Off fourteenth street.”

“Wow!” Merlin exclaims. “That’s so adult of you.”

“Seemed like time,” Gwen says. “I saw it earlier today. It was really nice. Needs some paint. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms.”

“Only two bedrooms? So you’re definitely not having kids, then?” Merlin asks. The topic has come up before and they always seemed on the fence.

Gwen shrugs. “If we do, only one. It’s not on our list of things we want.”

“Good for you,” Arthur says. “I’m glad you guys know what you want.”

“There’s another one for sale across the street,” says Lance. “It’s twice the size. The people bought the one right next to it, knocked down the walls, totally gutted it, and then put it back together.”

“We could be neighbors!” Gwen cries. “Then instead of the pub, we could just pop in to each other’s houses.”

“I feel as though you rehearsed this,” Arthur says. 

“Maybe,” Gwen admits.

“What would I do with a double-sized townhouse?”

“Have a shit load of kids?” Gwen suggests with a laugh.

“Maybe,” Arthur says, “but normally people don’t buy houses big enough for families without being married first and plans to reproduce.”

“You should look at the house,” Lance reiterates. “I think it’s designed to your tastes. Really – what’s the word you guys use? Oh, posh. It’s really posh. I know it’s big, but I’m telling you. If we could afford it, we would’ve made an offer.”

“But we aren’t as fancy as you,” Gwen adds.

“I’ll check it out,” Arthur says.

“Where am I supposed to live in this scenario?” Merlin asks. “You two have the townhouse and you force Arthur into the mansion across the road. And I’m still taking the train to come visit for pub nights?”

“I assumed you’d still be with Arthur,” says Gwen, looking pointedly at Merlin. 

Merlin blinks, once, very slowly. “Why?”

“I guess because you’re still living with him, right? I dunno why that would that change?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want me tagging along?”

“Maybe it’s been four months and you’re still living there so maybe I assumed that’s the way things are now.”

“Whatever,” Merlin says. “I still have my own flat, you know.”

“And when was the last time you spent the night there?”

“Just seems presumptuous to think I’ll follow Arthur to whatever house he picks out,” Merlin mumbles, ignoring Gwen’s question.

Arthur places a hand on Merlin’s knee and gives it a slight squeeze. It’s mildly reassuring.

Their server drops off their food and brings them another round of drinks. Merlin is fairly quiet while the others talk about work and plans for Gwaine’s birthday party next month. He doesn’t really pay attention to what they’re saying and when there’s a lull in the conversation, Merlin asks Gwen, “I don’t understand why you’d think I’d follow Arthur to some big-ass house that you think he’s going to have a bunch of kids in. Like how would I fit into that? I’m the weird bachelor uncle who lives in the basement? It’s insulting.”

“That’s not what I meant. Why’re you so bent out of shape about it?”

“I don’t know. It was presumptuous.” 

Gwen wipes the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “Merlin,” she says slowly and sternly, “I didn’t mean anything by it, but if you want to have this conversation, we can do it outside.”

“Why?”

“Because you aren’t going to like what I have to say.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Merlin.”

“ _Gwen_.”

She takes a deep breath.

“Whatever,” Merlin says.

“Because, you jackass, I assumed you’d follow Arthur to a new house because in that situation you’d be the one having the shit load of kids _with_ him. Not living in a separate room like some lovesick puppy.”

“Gwen,” Lance says, his voice low but sturdy. 

“No,” she says. “I can’t do this anymore. Merlin, it was a Freudian slip when I said I assumed you’d be living at the townhouse. But come on. I can’t watch you pine anymore.”

“What an interesting slip of the tongue,” muses Arthur. “Pray tell, what makes you think Merlin and I would be moving into a house together and having a ‘shit load of kids’ in the first place?”

“No,” says Merlin, “what makes her think I’m the one pining?”

Arthur gestures towards himself. “Well, I mean, _obviously_.”

“No, no,” Merlin says again. “Just because you’re fit doesn’t mean I’m over here pining for you.”

“Gwen seems to think so.”

“Gwen is delusional.”

“She’s incredibly perceptive. Pining, Merlin. She said you were pining over me.”

“Whatever, like you haven’t been having wet dreams about me for the last ten years. I’m probably the reason for all your morning wood. You moan in your sleep, too, you know.”

“Lovely imagery, you should be a writer.”

Gwen looks back and forth between them. Then she narrows her eyes and says, “You dirty did it.” She points her fork at Arthur. “You finally fucked him, didn’t you? Don’t play games with me here and try to tell me that wasn’t an epic bout of spontaneous flirting – and you know Merlin is shit at flirting.”

“Uh, excuse me,” Merlin interjects, “why am I the only being fucked? And I’m not shit at flirting.”

Gwen gives him a pointed look. “Seriously?” She raises her eyebrows and then looks back at Arthur. “Well?”

“I can honestly say I did not fuck him.”

“Ha!” say Merlin rather triumphantly.

“Yet,” Arthur adds.

“Fucking traitor!” Merlin cries at the same time Gwen yells, “ _I knew it!_ ”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell her,” Merlin moans.

“I didn’t tell her anything.”

“It’s fine, I’ll kill you later.”

“What does this mean?” Gwen asks excitedly. “You guys hooked up, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Merlin admits.

“Oh my god. Finally. I am so relieved!” Gwen sighs. “So are you a real couple now? We can stop playing the fake relationship game?”

“Uhh,” says Merlin, glancing at Arthur. “We hadn’t had that conversation yet.”

“Whoops,” Gwen says. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur says in a rush. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else. I deleted Grindr this morning. We’ll label ourselves as whatever feels right when the time is right. There’s no rush.”

“I guess when you’ve been waiting ten years for someone to finally notice you, a few more weeks isn’t going to make a difference,” Gwen guesses.

“Something like that,” Arthur agrees. 

Merlin shoves a bunch of chips in his mouth. He ponders this. Arthur is so quick to say he doesn’t need a label, but Merlin suspects otherwise. He wants to tell him that he wants what they had when they were fake dating. He wants all that couple-stuff he told Freya about and he wants it with Arthur. But maybe Arthur is right, too. Maybe there isn’t a rush and when he’s a million percent certain this is what he wants, he can tell Arthur and they can define things on their own terms. He smiles at the thought.

***

The upcoming work week is fairly standard. They drive in together, go their separate ways, get lunch, go back to work, drive home. Except it doesn’t feel standard. Arthur steals moments away from his own office and visits Merlin’s desk just to say hi. They’re caught snogging in the break room – twice. And just as Merlin predicted, Freya notices a change in them.

“What’s different?” she asks. “You’re happier. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

“Nothing’s different,” Merlin says. He knows she doesn’t believe him.

At home – or, well, at Arthur’s home – things are the most different. Merlin wants to touch Arthur all the time, so he does. Arthur seems a little more hesitant the first couple of days, as though he doesn’t want to scare Merlin off, but soon their hands are everywhere all the time. When Arthur cooks dinner, Merlin puts his hands on his hips and leans over to sample the tomato sauce. When Arthur tries to get some work in, Merlin grabs his hand and leads him to the bedroom. 

Merlin knows there will be a time when this honeymoon period is over, but for now, he’s ready to enjoy it. They already know each other, so it’s like jumping into the middle of a relationship. They don’t really talk about it, but Merlin starts to stay in Arthur’s bed each night. His clothes are still in the spare room, but after dinner they clean the dishes (or throw away the takeaway containers), watch a few episodes of something on Netflix, and then go to bed together.

It’s a little over a week into this new relationship – which they haven’t even defined as a relationship because maybe they’re both scared of the conversation – when Merlin whispers, “I think I want you to.” 

Arthur tells him it may be weird the first time and that it’s okay not to like it.

“You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t,” Arthur reassures. 

“But I thought one of the defining things about being with someone was the sex. Didn’t we have that conversation after the beach?”

“What makes you think everything we’ve been doing this week isn’t sex?”

Merlin pauses. “I mean … it is … but …”

“Not every guy likes to bottom. And just because you don’t like it doesn’t automatically mean you have to top either. There are always other things to do.” Arthur kisses the space right below Merlin’s ear; it’s his new favorite place.

“Do you ever …”

Arthur pulls up and looks down at Merlin. “Not really. I’d do it so you can experience it, but it’s not my favorite. I don’t need to do it, though.”

“So we could go the rest of our lives and never have sex?”

“Again,” Arthur says with forced patience, “what we do _is_ sex. But, yes, I could go the rest of our lives and be okay with not fucking you if that’s what you wanted. Which is why I’m telling you – if you don’t like it, it’s all right.”

“And if I do? What if I love it?”

Arthur bends back down and kisses Merlin’s jaw. “Then I’ll make you bend over the back of the sofa, drape you over the kitchen counter, push you against the shower wall.” His lips barely ghost over Merlin’s. “And if you hate it then I’ll feed you my cock instead because that’s something I know you already love.”

Oh god, that’s so true. Merlin whimpers. 

“That’s the sound I like to hear,” Arthur says. 

Merlin closes his eyes and lets Arthur take over. That enormity he feels whenever he’s near Arthur only intensifies when Arthur pushes in him. The connection, how their bodies are now literally connected as one, sharing each other, feels huge. His heartbeat slams loudly between his ears and he claws at Arthur’s back. He wonders if this is how it’s always supposed to feel. He wonders how much of this is pleasure and how much of it is love—

“Oh shit.” Merlin eyes fly open.

Arthur pauses. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” He starts to pull away.

Merlin grabs Arthur’s hips and holds him in place and then pushes him back closer. “No, no,” he says. “Sorry, I – no. Keep going – I want you to keep going.” He reaches up to now grab the back of Arthur’s neck and crash their mouths together. He bites Arthur’s bottom lip and then lifts his hips, trying to encourage Arthur to continue. And then it goes from feeling okay to actually feeling rather good and this time when Merlin says, “Oh shit,” it’s for an entirely different reason.

After, Merlin feels different. He feels closer to Arthur, knowing they shared this together. Logically he knows he isn’t the first bloke Arthur’s done this with, but maybe – _maybe_ – he hopes he’s the last.

***

That weekend they go by Merlin’s flat before meeting up with Gwen and Lance for their usual Saturday lunch. Merlin tries to get to his flat once a week to pick up his mail and check that everything is still in its place. This is the first time Arthur goes with him. He parks his BMW in front of Merlin’s building and they head inside together. Merlin unlocks his mailbox and pulls out a bunch of envelopes.

“Looks like nothing but junk,” he says. He continues to flip through everything as they take the elevator up to his floor. He’s reading through his electric bill at the same time he’s trying to unlock his front door so he doesn’t seen the notice taped over the peep hole until Arthur points to it. He grabs it and pushes the door open.

“You should really dust in here,” Arthur says, stepping inside and looking around.

“I haven’t stayed here in months. What’s the point in dusting?”

Arthur looks as though it’s taking a great deal of strength not to respond.

Merlin tears open the notice that was left on the door and reads through it. He can feel the blood drain from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asks.

“Er, it’s from the leasing office.”

“Did you forget to pay your rent or something?”

Merlin shakes his head. He tries to avoid Arthur’s eye as he goes to the kitchen to throw away the bills and junk mail in the rubbish bin under the sink. “It’s, uh, just letting me know my lease agreement is up and that, er, you know, it’s time to renew it…”

“That’s not bad,” says Arthur. “Why’re you acting weird, then?”

Merlin slowly turns back around to face Arthur. “You mean, you don’t want me to cancel my lease?”

Arthur looks at him blankly for a moment before a smile tugs on his lips. “Ah, I see. You think I’m expecting you to completely move out and live with me officially? Is that what’s stressing you out right now?”

“I mean, yes. We haven’t had any conversations like that, mind, and now I’m faced with having to actually make this kind of big decision and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Arthur laughs and Merlin frowns. He crosses the room and puts both hands on Merlin’s shoulders.

“I’m going to stress you out even more now, are you ready?”

Merlin shakes his head. “No! Why would you do that?”

“Merlin,” Arthur says firmly. “I love you. I’m _in_ love with you. I’ve also been emotionally in this relationship for ten years, and so I’d understand if officially moving in is too much too fast. If you want to keep staying at my place, but renew your lease here so you can come back whenever you want, or have an escape plan if you grow tired of me, I’m okay with that. I’ll wait for you to catch up to where I am, because I love you.”

Merlin groans and pushes Arthur away. “Stop being so fucking perfect all the time! You make my freak-outs seem rational! You should be upset that I’m thinking of keeping my flat!”

“Are you angry with me for not being angry?”

“Yes!”

Arthur laughs. “Oh, Merlin.”

Merlin pouts. “Fuck,” he groans again. “Well, this notice says I have three weeks to decide. And I, er, liked the last couple things you said…”

“You mean when I said I love you?”

Merlin waves a dismissive hand. “That’s a given, but the other things. That you’d wait for me to catch up to you.” He sighs. “Will you come back? I didn’t mean to push you away.”

Arthur takes a step closer and Merlin grabs hold of his shirt and pulls him in. He kisses him and tries to forget about his lease.

***

At work on Monday, Frederick drops a bomb on Merlin.

“I’m retiring,” he says, “at the end of summer.”

Merlin is shocked. He’s frozen in the chair across from Frederick’s desk. “Uhh,” he manages.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what this means for you.”

“Partly, yeah. I’m just shocked that you’re leaving.”

“I’m old, Merlin. I think I want to do some traveling. I’ve never been to Europe. I think I’d like to see some things before my kids have kids. Assuming either of them ever grow up enough for that.”

“I see. So, er, sir … who’d take over for you?”

“Peterson,” Frederick answers.

Merlin thinks about the other partners in the firm. Peterson is the logical choice to take over in the same capacity that Frederick has, but Peterson has Amelia. And rumor has it he’s sleeping with her so chances are he wouldn’t want to replace her for Merlin. Becoming the assistant for anyone else would almost be a demotion. Even though Frederick sees clients on his own, he mostly runs the office, takes care of the partners and associations, and ensures a lot of quality care of the firm’s clients. Except Merlin really doubts Peterson can handle things the same way Frederick has.

“Peterson,” Merlin repeats. “Hmmm.”

“You don’t like my choice.”

“You want my honest opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Peterson is a great lawyer. But can he handle the management side of this place? Does he even want to? I’m sure he could hire great lawyers and I’m sure he could woo clients, but there’s a lot more to this than that. The firm keeps growing.”

Frederick smiles. “I figured that would be your opinion. That’s why you’re not going to be Peterson’s assistant.”

“Oh. All right. Er, then where will I go? Oh, god, if you say I’m going to Percy I’m seriously going to walk out this door.”

Frederick laughs. “No. Here, come with me.” He stands and walks out of his office. Merlin jumps up and follows him down the corridor.

They pass by all the offices with windows, the largest conference room, and the break room. they’re on the other side of the building before Frederick stops. All the doors and walls are glass, except the walls that divide the offices. This door is blank; no one’s name has been etched into the glass yet. The office itself is fairly small, which means it’s probably dedicated to a second or third-year associate, or maybe one of their top-performing paralegals. It’s empty inside, but when Merlin looks out the window, it overlooks one of the city’s parks.

“Who’s office is this?”

“Yours,” Frederick answers.

Merlin whirls around. “What?” he cries. “Why?” He can’t imagine a scenario where an assistant at this place gets their own office.

“Because I need an office manager.”

“A what?”

“An office manager. You’ve really been unofficially doing that for a while now, but as the business grows and we get hire more lawyers and more paralegals and more clerks, we need someone to organize it all. We’re expanding. We’re going to be taking over the floor below us in six months.”

“The whole floor?”

“We’ll have twice as much space. I thought about staying on while the construction happens, but I think you can handle that.”

“That’s insane. You’re mad.”

“You have a degree in pre-law. You know what you’re doing. This is still my firm. I’m still a named partner. I’ll still come in for meetings when we need to make big decisions. I simply won’t be here for the day to day.”

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

Merlin looks back out the window. “I did always want a view.”

Frederick slaps him on the back and laughs. “That’s the spirit! You’ll get another raise, too, of course. We’ll work on your contract before anything is official.”

“I’ll have to have my lawyer look over it,” Merlin jokes.

“He already has. He’s the one writing it up. He wanted to be sure you were taken care of.”

“Jesus,” Merlin whispers.

“I’m going to lunch. Go find Arthur and join me. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Merlin exists the office and walks back down the corridor towards Arthur’s office. His mind is such a jumble of thoughts and feelings. He’s too overwhelmed to even feel honored. He opens Arthur’s office door without bothering to knock or see if he’s alone. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Merlin says, realizing Arthur is sitting with a client. He immediately turns on his heel, but Arthur stops him.

“Merlin, it’s Oliver, it’s okay.”

Merlin turns back again and grimaces. “Hello, again. Sorry. Hi.”

“Our meeting was over anyway,” Oliver says. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you as well.”

Oliver smirks. “Still as awkward as ever, I see.”

Merlin deflates a little but agrees. He says goodbye and Oliver leaves Arthur’s office. As soon as the door closes, Merlin rounds on Arthur.

“You kept this giant secret from me for how long?”

“Ah, Freddy told you, then, did he?”

“Duh.”

“He told me last week. I told him you’d hate the idea.”

“I do hate the idea!”

“But that you’d do it anyway.”

“You know I’ll do it anyway! That’s what’s so infuriating. I’m an assistant, not a manager.”

“Eh,” Arthur disagrees, “you do a lot more than any of the other assistants. This is also one of those situations where you need to believe me when I say you’re really unbelievable. In a good way. You should give yourself more credit. Freddy literally made this position for you. He could have continued on with the way things were, but instead he saw your potential and wants you to grow with it. You have the capacity for great things.”

“You sound so fucking corporate right now, using words like _potential_ and _grow_ and _capacity_. Isn’t it, like, a rule or something that you have to say nice things to the person you’re in love with?”

“Of course, it’s in the official rulebook.”

“Thought so.”

“It’s also not why I’m telling you these things.”

“Yeah, yeah. Frederick wants to take us to lunch. Was this what it was like being the teacher’s pet growing up? Always getting special treatment? Lunches and offices and shit?”

“I was never teacher’s pet.”

“Wow, you are such a liar.”

Arthur grabs his jacket and shrugs it on. He gestures for Merlin to walk out of his office. They make their way to the elevator and Arthur continues to point out all of the things Merlin’s done for the firm that proves he’s ready for this new job title. Merlin is determined to remain unconvinced. He does stop Arthur mid-sentence by saying, “thank you,” and kissing him in front of everyone in the elevator.

***

The following week Arthur lets Lance talk him into looking at the double-sized townhouse. It’s certainly beautiful with high-end finishes and sleek appliances. Everything is oversized and it has five bedrooms instead of the usual two or three like all the other row of townhomes on the road. Lance lets them wander around the place alone while he waits on the front steps. Merlin perches himself on top of the marble kitchen island – _marble_ of all things – once they’re done looking through the rest of the house.

“What’s the deal?”

Arthur runs a hand across the backsplash, clearly admiring it. “What do you mean?”

“This place is obnoxious. Why would Lance think you’d want it?”

“Don’t know.”

“Liar.”

Arthur sighs. He leans against the counter directly across from Merlin. “He’s been trying to get me to buy for ages now. I’ve never been interested before, so one day I told him I only wanted to buy once and it would have to be a place near the city that I could raise kids in. This is clearly that kind of place.”

“So I know we’ve never really talked about money before, but … do you really make enough to afford it?”

Arthur grimaces. “I do.”

“Fuck,” breathes Merlin. He’s both disgusted and impressed. “This place is too nice. Kids need to live somewhere they’re not afraid to get dirty.”

“Oh?”

Merlin nods. “Yeah. Wouldn’t you rather have a place with grass? Where’s the nearest playground here? And if you’re not wanting to get a house unless it’s for a family, shouldn’t you wait to, I dunno, get married or something? What if your future husband doesn’t like it?”

“Merlin.” Arthur has that weird twinkle in his eye that he gets whenever he finds Merlin amusing. It’s infuriating. “If you hate it, you can just say so.”

“But if _you_ like it, then that’s really what matters, right?”

“Why aren’t you looking at me? I know the faucet can’t be that interesting.”

Merlin glares. Arthur takes two steps forward and pushes Merlin’s knees apart to stand between them. He puts his hands on the countertops on either side of Merlin’s hips.

“You’re acting crazy.”

“I’m picturing you with a bunch of towheaded kids and it makes me want to throw up.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t fit in here. This isn’t my kind of place and certainly you’d realize that if you moved in and then I’d be homeless.”

“You’re so melodramatic sometimes.” He pauses. “Why would you be homeless?”

Merlin throws up his hands. “Ugh! Because I didn’t renew my lease.”

“I’m actually shocked. No sarcasm intended.”

“I didn’t want it. The flat, I mean. I wanted – but this place – I can’t live here.”

“Okay, okay,” Arthur says. “Stop freaking out. You’ve been so stressed lately. I thought sex was supposed to mellow people out.”

Merlin nods. “Yeah, right, I dunno.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I think the new job and you and this” – he motions in between them – “is a lot of changes. And this” – he motions again – “is probably the most adult relationships I’ve ever had. Also, I’m a little overwhelmed because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, and I’ve been trying to decide for days how to tell you and sitting on a marble-fucking-countertop in a vacant house wasn’t really my top choice so now I’m stressed that I’ve fucked this part up, too.” 

Arthur, bless him, tries really hard to keep a neutral face, but his resolve breaks and Merlin feels himself blush at the near-predatory look in Arthur’s eyes. 

“That’s the best thing you could’ve ever said to me.”

Merlin swallows. “Oh?”

“Mm hmm,” Arthur hums with a nod. “I don’t like the house either. I’m not in a rush to buy anything. I like my flat. I like you in my flat even more. If you want to stay there forever, then we’ll stay there forever.”

“Okay. Thanks. Why are you so perfect all of a sudden? Like you weren’t this perfect when we were friends.”

“Of course I was. I’m exactly the same.”

“I keep expecting to do or say things that make you angry with me. You were never this patient before!”

Arthur cups Merlin’s cheeks and presses a thumb against his mouth, silencing him. “I waited ten years for you. I clearly have plenty of patience. I’m going to kiss you now and you’re going to stop freaking the fuck out, all right? You have to calm down. Be stressed about the job all you want to, but you have to stop being stressed out about me. I’m not going anywhere and you can’t scare me away.”

Merlin nods as Arthur kisses him.

***

The next time they go to King George’s, Merlin orders a round of shots for everyone. 

“If we’re playing credit card roulette, we better make it worth it!”

“Says the dude who’s never lost!” Audrey exclaims. “I’ll also have the Shepherd’s pie, thanks.” She hands the menu back to the server.

“I lost the first time we came.”

“Yeah, but your boyfriend paid the tab,” says Elyan. “Unfair advantage. Buffalo wings, please, with bleu cheese.”

“I’m poor. I’m only an assistant.”

“For now,” says Percy. “We all heard how you got a fancy office. Uhh, grande nachos.”

“It’s smaller than all of yours.”

“It’s got a door,” Audrey argues. “I didn’t even have a door until my third year of working there! I was in a line of cubicles with all the other lowly first year grads.”

“It’s nice to finally see that other people are noticing how amazing he is. It was exhausting trying to convince him all the time. An order of chips – er, fries, I mean – and a grilled cheese. Also, I think the blackened chicken Caesar salad. Thank you.”

“And for you?” the server asks, stopping at Merlin.

“What?”

“He’s having the sandwich,” Arthur answers.

“I wish I had a boyfriend who always knew what to order for me,” Audrey gushes. “It’s such bullshit being single.”

Merlin notices Percy flinch a little, as though Audrey’s words hurt. 

“Actually,” Arthur chimes in, “I’ve been ordering for Merlin since university, way before we ever got together.”

“Why?” Percy asks. “I mean, I know he’s picky, but he can read a menu.”

“It’s a funny story,” Arthur says. “Funny for me, at least. For Merlin it’s probably really embarrassing.”

“No, no,” Merlin objects. “None of this. No more embarrassing Merlin stories. We’ve had enough of those for a lifetime, I think.”

“We will _never_ have enough embarrassing Merlin stories!” Audrey exclaims. “They’re my favorite!”

Merlin shakes his head. “Don’t you dare.”

Arthur ignores him. “So we end up going to this really expensive French restaurant. The whole menu is in French and even though we both studied it in school back in England, Merlin retained none of it.”

“Stop,” says Merlin.

Arthur continues. “So he orders—”

“If you tell them anything, you won’t get blown tonight.”

Arthur pauses. He turns to look at Merlin. He holds his gaze, studying him. Merlin knows exactly what’s going on in his head. This time Merlin might mean it, this time it’s actually on the table.

With a sigh, Arthur sits back. “Sorry, guys.” He looks at Elyan and Percy. “I’m sure you both understand.”

“No way!” Audrey cries. “Merlin stories are the best!”

“You don’t understand the magic of blow jobs,” Percy says. “If you could experience a really good one you wouldn’t be upset right now.”

“True,” Elyan adds with an appreciative nod.

“Oh, come on, they can’t be _that_ good,” says Audrey.

Arthur snorts. “You really have no idea. They’re kind of magic. I keep telling everyone how amazing Merlin is, and I’m sure you didn’t think I only meant at his job at the firm. I meant at _all_ jobs.”

Elyan and Percy howl with laughter. Merlin tries not to laugh – he doesn’t want to give Arthur the satisfaction – but he can’t help it. He covers his mouth with his hand to keep Arthur from seeing, but his shoulders shake. When he notices Arthur’s grin, he wants to wipe it right off his face.

“You think you’re so clever.”

Arthur nods. “Yep.”

Merlin kisses him at the table in front of their friends. He never imagined that one little lie would land him here, kissing his best mate in a British-themed bar. But maybe sometimes honesty isn’t always the best policy, especially if falling in love with Arthur is the consequence.

***

**End.**


End file.
